Remembrance of things present




Forgo to the east the beginning and the rise
Looming over horizon with wanting eye
Yearning to reach the west
Before the step has been placed in quest

Behind the hills and crested hollow


The silent bird blissfully wallows
In his perch from ears sewn to close
He is free of thorns but still a rose
Hide him from pry and look

Not taking the sound that could be took




Ruffle his feathers in the breeze
Longing after whispers tease
Soon he part but not yet

The plan is laid the plot set




To open his bosom to the lift
To take length and the shift
Though it seems the air is frost
Seep in ground desire lost
Tried he to whether the ache
To create and to make

Swift was his start as was his end


What scars are left to mend?