As far as an eye's stretch over the last lamb
the flow of the heather sails flush against the sun;
Belting out indigo waltzes hummed in tune
with the wind turbines repeating whirl ..
Sky to land, sky to land, sky to land,
the last dance saved for the harvest moon.
All the time layered between seed to plant
creation of colour from the bee to the lover;
From the slow, quick step, quick step, slow
whipping air light spinning twirls...
causing a fragrance to bleed
its flavour into the waking furrow.
Nature can really dance aligned with us ... just know when the balance is right!
No comments:
Post a Comment