I Know Not

high white clouds ride the sky beneath bright arching blue bitter cold wind blowing through to my flesh and cloth to thin silence echoes in wondering mind seeking fleeing thoughts lost within rustling foots falls dimly are heard of all the things that I seek of armies clad in armor bright crashing arms of battles fought sounding loud across the land that cannot be hidden from my sight and my thoughts are not like these bright point shining in the sun crashing sounds loudly heard so of them I might easily find Muses burst from heavens above in flowing robes of colors bright of long tresses blowing in the wind eyes so bright shining in the sun sound of pipes and flute is heard music that the gods might play to mighty for mere ear of man that he might clearly then transcribe words that poets may never write music that musicians can never play plays never performed on stage offered freely to those who try as I sit at mountains foot wishing to climb to its mighty heights that the art of the gods I might find some how to use it in my art too weak is my mere mortal flesh eyes are limited by human thoughts my strength is not to climb the heights and have the gifts the gods to give with quill of feather and pot of ink scribbling on parchment old writing words I do not know speaking of things not understood soft my moans of pain take flight carried upon the cold wind faded by the bright piercing light loss to all and never heard to my flesh the deed to do word of Muse lost in my mind art of God's not comprehended by flesh of man in sunlight bright still I wonder and I try to find the words that I write that mortals might still find right before I go into the night