Hark, the chill rustling of chlorophyll sheets,
the leaves of Nature's Bible.
Her true cantabile whisper - raspy
with influenza of industry - I thinks returns,
phantom but full-felt quiver of air
clasping, caressing our flutter of existence.
The gentle breeze of lyricism,
the jarring gust of chromaticism - both
in one breathtaking breath of Mother Earth - neither
caught whole heart in spirit of Man, save
a momentary letter, a transient note
that makes us know!
Shh! can you hear
the time-touched tune of anima ancestral? We,
overtones in the wind's soulful timbre. We, Nature,
with Man just one sweet pitch. A fresh inventive
Dissonance enriched in harmonies old.
Hark, the sublime song of Life,
a scherzo celebration of air.
Inhale, exhale. Find we Holy
Aspiration in Natural
Respiration - coaxed to Conscious
by the wind - Stimulated -
Transcending caffeine and meth and sugar heights -
Liberating real for the chorus of