PASSION (April 86)

You instill in me a chance to dream
to vision things I've never seen
to love you lazy in the sun
in moon beamed forest on a run
climbing to the crest of mountains
bathing in lone pristine fountains

lying down in fields of clover
your caressing touch all over
breathing in the scent of pine trees
floating gently upon glass seas
Tis all the things in reverie
come to mind when you touch me

blooming lilies kiss the dawn
and babbling river passes on
butterflies drift dancing by
the motion of the clouds in sky
trickling of the melting snow
the things in you I've come to know

the seconds of each slipping hour
enlighten mind with awesome power
to create the perfect setting 
of the mind and body meeting
understand the sparks in fire
when the eagles soar no higher

to recognize the mountains peak
and know the height that lovers seek
overcome by gale winds
the torrential rain that heaven sends
that drown the heat of passing day
when nature comes out just to play

the roaring lion within his den
to bedrooms chambers entered in
for all the things love does design
you have brought these things to mind

Snowdrifts blow      caught in the mountain wind
shifting movements    in the currants bend
before them are     the days of summer fled
into the past    like former days now dead

Might you seek there   light of sunny days
autumn winter spring       now a former haze
water slipping holds    and rushes quickly on
so swiftly fades     a life not dwelt upon

The floodgates rush    down the rivers flash
where water plunges     and run the rapids fast
here our lives are     in fleeting moments gone
and few will know     if voices carried on

And what hopes man     in his life to gain
it’s miseries     if in his sins remain
tomorrow’s promise    know we it will come
accounted little    in our days their sum

This lonely place    flower beds lay fallow
it’s beauty fades    roots not deep but shallow
twilight veils     fields of mankind’s dreams
pursuing endlessly    hopes of better things

You till the soil    there a garden plant
always the weeds    in them do supplant
the roots are choked    and tendril trails creep
and strangles lives    in the dreamers sleep

COPYRIGHT © 2009
C Michael Miller
PoetryofProvidence