Butterfly
Cold keeps Eucalyptus awake
all night.
Silent giants crowded in their own shadows, waiting for
lazy morn to wake up, for her
fingers of sunrays warm and hum of breeze low
to put them at last to
sleep,
where clouds
form islands afar, ocean befogs
the mountain and leaves scatter into butterflies, all
in a gust of dream.
Yawn-borne dreams of Spring swirl as Carmen
once did. How
the edge of her skirt loud with
red and yellow sheds such
muted allure
no one awake knows.
So they swirl through many a past
life and life to come in me.
Streams of worlds bloom and fade at the
flutter of their wings.
Here's a movie I put together of the experience. Enjoy!
And a couple of more beautiful videos from youtubers with better video equipment than I have :) . . .
No comments:
Post a Comment