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How I long to catch


How I long to catch her words

igneous sands and wind

tunes yellow to blue

                                   tunes blue to mellow

tunes in notes and ideas

                                           her vocabulary

It is just dew on the blade dropping noiselessly

Little tears are water gems

The heart softly cradeled in her lilt

The heights of the trees sway as gentleman ought

A dance waits at the bottom of your feet

this is the motion the trees want her to see

Its brushing leaves cajolling you to listen

The words fall from a kiss

                                        the kiss falls when it is ripened

Her thoughts are her own pasture

Today it is flowering

We are gathered with thoughts of trumpet vines

The lifting words we are here to hear

are day to the nights of ear

Her words are heavenly revelation

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Nikolai Vasilyev

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