the day like a beautiful woman
beguiles you from the dark path that
your troubles lead you
the spring air itself seeks to
enlighten and revive

but stained is the canvas on which you
are painted
and while they are rich in flavour
the hues in which you are rendered are
filled with traces of the darkness that begat you
and even the hint of which leads you to this place

a whooping crane glides close to the chop of the water
wheeling on the turn of the breeze
the lakes dark waters give no tale to its depths
only reflects the jewels of the sun

you stand there in the shade of a pinetree
and with stillness grasping you heart
watching the day unfold unhurried
it tries once again to beguile you from these
shadows of thought
with the sounds of children's joyful play
and the rush of eagerness as a passenger jet rises high above
delivering its fragile cargo to bright futures
to the travellers quest to discover the lost country
and find their own kingdoms under the sun

but after such time as this
it takes more than mere distractions
to bend a life's path

i would give much to see your smile
would offer to stand the night-watch
with the weary men of the dutch gate
would render worlds with the pen
but you cast aside such things
this is your own dark road and
alone upon it you must tread