The makings of a mind
are threads of thought
That weave a web -
coherent consciousness -
to conjure and control
the fire of soul.
By day the bonds are stout,
the spirit pale;
sure spells confine the flame
within her cage
of reason, logic,
memory, and fact.
Until soft darkness comes
to cut the cords
That bind the bright beast tight.
See how she turns,
Unfolds and spreads her wings,
and grows, and glows!
She leaps to flight
and joins the shining flock:
dark dreams that dance the sky
and sing the songs
of creativity
and life and love.
Copyright 2001 - Mark Zimmerman
are threads of thought
That weave a web -
coherent consciousness -
to conjure and control
the fire of soul.
By day the bonds are stout,
the spirit pale;
sure spells confine the flame
within her cage
of reason, logic,
memory, and fact.
Until soft darkness comes
to cut the cords
That bind the bright beast tight.
See how she turns,
Unfolds and spreads her wings,
and grows, and glows!
She leaps to flight
and joins the shining flock:
dark dreams that dance the sky
and sing the songs
of creativity
and life and love.
Copyright 2001 - Mark Zimmerman
2 comments:
I love nature, birds, and poetry. What a perfect blog you have here.
Karen
Beautiful imagery!
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