Refinery of the Soul

The timbre of a breeze induced whisper

fills my head with the buzz of nature,

the crispness of shadows,

stark, against the radiance of light,

flirts with the spectrum 

of wilderness shades.

Wind flirts among the aspen trees,

shaking ripples through the stream,

it chases stars in the breeze,

loosing fire as it breathes. 

Sparks fall and smolder underneath,

gentle flames encircle sky like a wreath,

a haven who's rhythm seems

to throb my very heartbeat.