The peaceful howls of night complement the dazzling starlit sky
Crackling of the burning pine fumigates the cool air
Cold bite of the rising sun, fog lifting from the trampled grass,
As color shimmers on the mirror ponds, the crickets no longer dance
Smoke at constant stream , calling now for dead shades of green
Winter hangs by the frosty hills only to vanish like its quick reveal
Wind whispers and it sways to the rhythm of trees,
sending out natural odors that please
Bugling erupts from the timber a song that is pleasant,
welcoming those that dream earth had a heaven
As the glow brings warmth brightness takes the shadows home,
Trails and paths of old come to a place where beavers roam

From the heart; the Heart deep high mountains lay frost
Laughter and song; Laughter the creatures sing a chant, ritual song
From the canyons; the Canyons of red as the tint of fall
Word of mouth; Mouth, echos the peaks of whitest snow
Crystals form as sickles and reflect the light of noon
New phase now repressing as the colors of the moon
Shadows respond in ominous stride
provoking the waters to musically drive
The whispering whistle of the the wind
travels through the pines like a soft spoken friend
Beauty; The Beauty to unearth a Godly quest
Travel now to the mountains, as child to mothers breast.

I

Honor from that of a fowl heart
Crimson and gold-silver bells shrill
Fools delight in drunken birth
Moonlit jasmine and sapphire glow
billowing pillars of smoke from towns below
Merry and gay is the festival-parade
from farther land come, beautiful delicate maids
Hustling steps to the garden square
gray stone now wet from decline of care

Marionettes sway with colorful strings of joy
Shakespearean theater a play of fools
making their toasts to crystal jewels
Chapels painted star of David so bright
yet they stray banished from glorious light
Catacombs shake, a hungry soul stirs
come now the widows of savage earth

Reflect, yes ponder upon shallow grave
a house with no sun, yet fierce is the shade
Piercing, Scorching the turn of the blade
laughter now fades on fools darkest day

                                II

For the singer of song, sings unlike that of the bird
Howling sheds tears, unpleasant-Forever heard
Outlasting that of the harp which David played
Increasing with time like a judgmental plague
If the halo shines bright, on but a few who wed
the blues played by all men who fear life then dead
Silver string and black is the heart
Heaven and creation so far-Far apart
take note of the artist-metronome of pain
Keeping the rhythm with Fools darkest day.