Aided By The Wind

Eternal skies tease the ground below, shows shelf lustrous in the waters eye, in aroused reflecting cameo, seducing where iridium and gold collide. In a romance, elemental dance of libido in ratio, patio. Pure and timeless, like a lustrous tithe of tides. A celestial caress simpatico, iimprinted dye, of Juliet and Romeo in stare oeo, telepath- rodeo, eye to eye inline. As stardusts are golden in our spirits rise to be touched, by cast of shadow cryogen bold defy. "In the air", emotion carries, in unknown ether, weather to ferry Eagle's soar or Stygian River dead protester. A voice that colors the atmosphere with inflection, mingles with Petrichor and isible metaphor; teenager, Fairy, headed in the wrong direction, caught holding spray can, unable to escape detection, of pulls accord. Yes, there is something fishy about the wind, something fishing with pearl of wise-ion. The aftermath of a storm, how can it carry laughter, like an Eagle's soar, dive again in the midsts-reborn. Does it know the secrets of the wind, the frequency of evermore? Belief, now it swallows me whole, a mourning eulogy turned symphony, childlike resilience witnessed by all, this morn. Touches you deep, to your core. The wind, a messenger telling of ripples contagious hopedom, like whipped cream of gentle zephyrs, whipped debris reshuffling angelic ghost-introspecters spectacle, sees to unbreakable kingdom's intro, prospectors.. A quiet ditty, eddy in the sunbeam lines speaks a warm opine. Whitch caresses the dirty cheeks, with tender light. It dances through the fields to signal- it's hardy, it's surrealites, the vermined-criminals, taking genuflected pew. Meerkat Flower sentinels emerging new, beneath refuse and wilted grain, a persistence of heart through the pain. Rescind and resound, pane of reconcill peers into your soul as you meet in gaze through crossroad window. Yes, God's Pet of breath, it has the power to uplift and wreck, carry the scent of spring or death, but it is in messenging, the animation of battle standard at our Forts of Brag, it's Parenting of your self defense, a complex, thing. A cheerleader waving our flags, spiriting a react. Guiding our journey, with every breath it takes aback and aligns, destination, direction, alas, in ongoing track. It is the companion to the loneliness of the long distance runner, in it's ongoing lap..