The Early Quest

THE EARLY QUEST

Sitting on a moss covered rock
and seething with the early morning chill,
I watch the misty tendrils
rising over the still waters, placid
beneath the spiritous, dancing forms.

The newly born rays, golden,
over the mountains
crest, color the dark depths
of the sky.

The song of a mocking bird follows
my concious, wandering mind through
the forest,
across the river,
climbing the mountains rise,
to the bright heights,
where I send it seeking in far distant places
for you,
my love.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s