Song Of Longing

How wide the music pulsing in the night

Which drifts to mountains with ancient flowers,

And sings a sacred song to these hours;

Yet often chains deceive bliss, and blind sight

To voices humming answers filled with light.

How shadows dance a man of his powers,

And leave pure lyrics falling in showers

Of nothingnessthat hide the heart's vast might.

I sing, or else I know I scatter dreams

To pieces, birth my day to day unrest,

And waste the riffs of hope that heal and soar.

I long to lean on chords deemed bright and best,

And rest my spirit in the warmest beams

Of summer, locking less outside my door.