Oh Poor Soul
We accept not the solitude of these passing thoughts, but in truth they are impossible,
When the structure of knowledge is bound to a poorest soul;
This mist will darkens barren limbs and leave leaves that turn to dust
As a wind outside holds the course retained ‘tween man and god;
Speak words of long held memories, lines from verses past
Tightly bound to our lives
Oh wait poor soul for only moonbeams here are lit,
And outside a glasses pane the winter frost kept white its beam again;
The branches sway when a northern breeze greets the coming day
Until love itself in the quiet wind beckons on to yesterday,
Come and darken the windows bows, and isolate the dawn
And let the wind blow forevermore upon the poorest soul
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