Flame wind of poppies
music of colours
great nights returning
gathered from mindfrost.
We bask in brilliance
bright petals spring from this
the golden light dances upon the leaves,
idle clouds sail across the sky
the passing breeze leaving its coolness
upon our lips.
The afternoon light has flooded the day
slips still, holding everlasting breath,
run with the words, smash into shards of possibility.
Time now to revive old factions
as worldly realities refuse to fade
dreams flower new universes in the head
as earths atomic fingers point towards the stars.
Slyly, moons still awake
slip upon shifting spaces all around
ragged silhouettes restless in their lark.
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