I jam a thousand poems in my head
And reach for the nearest dream ahead,
While the rainbows soar high in the skies
To meet the sun winking at my eyes.
I grab the song ringing in my ear
And grapple the guitar I now hear.
The music dances with the grass blades,
The flowers and the bees in the shade.
I call the south wind from the mountains:
It comes back drenched in the warm fresh rain.
Clouds frolic above the cadenced sea:
A treasure trove of nice things I see.
I burrow a wish in the dark snow,
Expecting to see a small white glow
That will light up an ancient dark cave
Whose breast cradles the best dreams I made.
I spin a tale in the heart of spring
To brighten a life sheared of sweet things.
The plot thins and thickens as nature
Promises to sweet-love the future.
I do these and a thousand more things
Which I regard as divine blessings,
Which I offer to someone special:
She continues to hold me in thrall.
