Carpe Diem

Wide, the morning, of clear events
and transparencies in all colours
of what is guessed as nascency
of what is caress, as fresh as lips
soft upon skin of flower awakened
with a wild soul of dreams.

There is cold, rustling under the steps
slivered, in brief shivers
from the vitreous quietude of trees
and all breathes that rare grace
devoid of any controversy of aromas or efforts
and thus, instinctive and simple
of the air in state of purity.

My blood is not dissociated
from this docile flow of sensing it within the veins
with no reflections on pliability
or resistance, or even
on plausible droplets, confluent with incisions
upon the time that was, or will be.

I am, merely, today
in skin of flower daringly awakened
to the fresh caress of dreaming in a state of grace
as it breathes, instinctively and simply
the purity of air.

It’s quite clear, the wideness of events
nascent in the colours
that the transparencies allow
to guess
with no controversy of aromas or efforts.

Like blood that is sensed
dissociating the cold
or the plenitude of reaping, onto the lips
the perfect awareness, with no reflection
of this morning.

© 2005 Alexandra* ~ OneLight*® Authors & Creations