the wet summer
Crowns the head of a psalm-
Unlacing it's proverbial season
The sun adjusts it's pilgrimage
Making the images of the world:
From green to yellow to orange
In a foliage of wind and water and ice
The season begins
On the five senses;
What I see is what I feel
And the thoughts begin a momentum,
Impending dazzlement
In the erosions of trees,
Sculpting winds
Falling to the untouchable clarity,
The soul and earth join,
These endless things
At the cusp of change
With that familiar feeling.
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 9:50 AM UTC
the wet summer
Crowns the head of a psalm-
Unlacing it's proverbial season
The sun adjusts it's pilgrimage
Making the images of the world:
From green to yellow to orange
In a foliage of wind and water and ice
The season begins
On the five senses;
What I see is what I feel
And the thoughts begin a momentum,
Impending dazzlement
In the erosions of trees,
Sculpting winds
Falling to the untouchable clarity,
The soul and earth join,
These endless things
At the cusp of change
With that familiar feeling.
The first wind out of the north always brings with it a fresh sense of change. This is the description of that.
