Parting to a new entry…

The Wind sways to the gyring turbulence of Thought,
Obligingly she blinks to the horizon
At the promise of Summer.

The Clouds dwindle behind the walls of ice speckles trickling onto grass of life
Like a frail old man with many voices in his head
They wobble through begrudgingly at the ceaselessness of gray
Grumpily they converse in their solitude
Hissing sweet nothing on Season to come back warmer.
The Clouds see fewer days and longer nights.

Blanket is happier at the friend she finds.
Clouds is MANy-a-man
Yet not whole; he harbors many holes
from Thought Winters who gives Clouds
No rest.
In Winters She is yet again revived,
Like a maiden united to her forbidden lover,
The candle wax is lavish to her
Prickled cold inanimate skin
All nightlong her lullaby is ceaseless.
In many ways she lies in sync with her enemy;
Winters whom she secretly adores;
like a cherry hibernating at Coloured cocktail’s bosom.
Winters not fooled at the foils of her glistening eye
Sparkling with unpronounced honour
His feet puff out icicles of wonder to the puffery of her jeering smile.

Wind waggles herself free of Thought’s contorted shackles on her.
With a spill of emotion,
She sways to her music, swirling and pirouetting to her self composed lyrics
She painted on the Sky
Sun is awakened at her blast
To this Sun begins his parade on Winters

Clouds takes to her flight and comes to life in Spirit…
This is the day Season makes her entry.
And life is a school of weaving…
Taking of fibre and fine-tuning into colour.
Colour is the conscience of life,
Tears well up on Her cheeks ceaselessly
Grace overflowing she finds home in the tears she’s
Learning to swim in,
Like a little toddler who knows nothing more
Than the fun of learning something unfathomed.

Fathom is the father of Unpredictable.
A man with a rod that turned our land into
deserts for us to thirst each day
Before our fill.
Without despondency, Wind is quick on her swagger
Promising a better day….

And even with parting
Like a changing Season we enter into a new Passage,
When Sun’s rays hug our faces as we tug into its warmth…
To remind her that Courage was the wisdom within setting her free…

Zhamour 30 April 2009


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