Calling me… is the emptiness
Enticing is this mist
The blinding white of
Cold, lonely mountains
Deep dark wooded slopes
Of these valleys
Lure me again…
There is something ancient here
Stirring the haunting strains
… Inside me
Lying on lushness, of this tableland
I am but a tiny speck
Vermillion shadows of the sky – suddenly salt sprinkled
And the owls begin to call out
The night zephyr … is now a song, now a tremble
Universe witnesses:
A forlorn figure … a weeping tremble running down its form
Helplessness written all over the air
The full moon disc ascends … now cheesy yellow
Slowly chalk white… “the science of curdling doesn’t work here”
The vales are now illuminated…
Shadows abound
The choir is in full form
The orchestra of the night in full swing
Universe Witnesses:
The forlorn figure … now at the edge
With a crimson silk running the length of her arms
Now stretched like wings
The long dark hair … now a part of the choir
She looks like Her Majesty
Master of all she surveys
… the tiny speck and so much power
Surrendering when you are high
Being at the edge of pleasure and pain
And the gravity doesn’t work anymore
For universe seems to have won just this time…
This IS free falling…
...Copyright©nEErs
