The Alchemist


144

I must have been an Alchemist in my past life
With a voice that lurches for Paradise
My eyes move along the bright trees
Searching for the peacock-throated night

It is you, my eternal saffron coloured gold
With skin of Mandarin, I remember ancient fire
Your tongue is as wide as the earth’s olives
Moist like the fishing torch of the leaves of poplars

I must have been crazy without you
Chanting for precious metals, I didn’t know
What earthly love could do to a man
I could give up riches, in an instant for you

Enchanted to roll in the silver wheat
Of rustling fields that would burst out
To remember that stillness that is your face
The daughter of the sun in my throat

A gift of light to my trembling sap
That brings me to touch the maple moons.

Photography Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/llansteffan-castle-390483214