[From: “The Last Journal of Gwyllyn"]
If in your dreams you see me wandering
through ripe wheatfields, pensive, pondering,
alone and adrift upon an ocean of grain
golden and billowing under a threat of rain,
then sing out to me from your upstairs window,
intone a bright song while the sea-zephyrs blow,
that my thoughts in the turbulent twilight air
will be mingled with a music resplendent and fair
and so ascend arrayed with both gladness and sorrow
through clouds to the starlight awaiting tomorrow.
2 comments:
I love the airy feeling of the poem as every mood is happening in the air. I feel the breeze, laden with thoughts and music, combing through the wheatfield and billowing upwards into the ether. I love nature poems and I wish I was more versed in this. I used to write about nature at the beginning but somehow I end up on a different track now. I enjoy your poem very much.
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