Three Paths In A Meadow
Three paths of a dancing wildflower meadow
One path known others on dissimilar mysteries.
Signs posted give warning to new adventures
But beware of reality’s tricks perceived as real.
The well worn path is woven full of love
Nurtured from infancy into a Garden of Eden
Protected womb of sorts in germinating ideas,
Cradle upon a mind on natural verse delights.
Wildflowers sprout with cocoon pods incubators,
Where under a midnight moon they open up
Releasing the fluorescence in butterfly delicate
Winds breezing amid complacent tranquility.
Here a poet sketches among songbird quill voices
Quivering in the night chill of feathering love.
Canvas of silken words weaving penmanship
Sailing stars into universal peace of vibrating earth.
Black velvet backdrops hearing melody’s HeArt
Refrains singing silent joining with harmony’s Beats
Every living thing breathing among divine beauty
Fresh air perfumed fragrances on hypnotic senses.
Close your eyes inside your mind set so free,
Where it glides upon this universe of silken words
That one can reside here on one permanent high.
But Poetry is about living roller coasters of emotions.
So one challenges different paths among doubts
Where sorrows build depth of terrains happiness
Upon scars with thorns planting vivid rose gardens
Pain in birth struggling to give live its beginning paths.
So one looks down this dark path with gloomy shadows
With this distant light of potential among its horizon
Another draught bare bleached bright sunlight white
Grains in sandstone sculptured upon approaching storms.
So open your eyes,
Which eye did you choose?
For upon opening our eyes,
We have so many possibilities
And only one way to travel.
David L. Young 06/17/08©
De-Terminated poet, somewhere in America