Vines
Wind whistles in poplar tree
An ancient ballad it will sing to thou
The ballad filled with divine majesty
Mesmerizing power and beauty
The alder swings gently in summer breeze
The nightingale sings his melodies
The cold back towards the arctic flees
The sun frozen heart and spirit frees
The thorns the very soul will impale
But above them pretty rose’s flower its petals will unveil
No matter if through storms the ship must sail
At the end of the voyage it will find its holy grail
Many vines like different dimensions are drawn on the scroll
One is beyond continuum of the soul
Together they are magnificence to extol
One for example is the primordial quantum the big bang of the very soul.
Copyright © Patrycjusz Kopec | Year Posted 2014
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