Foraging Neath The Tangerine Sky

My heart is draped
under dauntless plumes,
standing, ever standing
like an unbendable reed.

Fueled by feathered flights
gliding from summer into winter.
For my soul cleaves to the day
when the ebbing tangerine sun
remains a flame within the veins.

Ever weeping
those deep groans of grief
over the wisps of conquerors
whose mortality
withered before their dreams.

Still erect and resilient in the wake
of all that blows its fan of change
across the face, form and feelings.
Like a knife it cuts away
at the vigor of youth,
each flush in the vitality of pride.

Yet time has no claws
for the spirit
remaining resolved
and radiant in each recess.

Oh to kiss that stretch of night
intoxicating by
an airy beauty of believe
How it is where
there is a lingering tease
totally unyielding in its yearning,
because in the marrow
years have forged iron.

Warmed in that sunset’s citrine sea
unto the caress of throbbing
is formed the passage
filled with passionate breaths
so rich and intense
while others now sleep.

WE, are the voice that rises
out of the earth’s
crevices in consciousness.
Still the crane remains
unscathed of those moans,
ever ready to grab
by a fledgling's craving hold.

One tear baptizes
through its annual christening
over the lost loves
who ceased to soar.

Though the silky
texture of winged drifts
has turned leather
under so many
honeyed afternoons,
today is yesterday and tomorrow
when the mind can still dance
its waltz of sky born spells
upon the billowy carpet
with an ageless solo
in the heart.