Poem: Waking Dream
Feb. 19th, 2002 09:12 amI think this very well be my first...really happy poem. Ever. Wow.
Waking Dream
the rabbits are down in the sweetcorn
gathering up their young for the sunset
the wind blows through the trees
rustling them like bellwoods
and I feel all right
the sun dips down below the mountains
and melts over the sky
mixing into blues and purples
and splattering scattershot stars
back beyond my head
the trees chuckle at my wonder
as the wind dances through the forest
like a centaur and a nymph
and she is flicking my hair
becking me to lie down in the sweetcorn
with the rabbits
and the beetles
and the warm, rich heartbeat
of the world's green laughter
and Lord
I feel all right
even though I'm weeping and trembling
nothing but a babe
in the womb of the world.
Waking Dream
the rabbits are down in the sweetcorn
gathering up their young for the sunset
the wind blows through the trees
rustling them like bellwoods
and I feel all right
the sun dips down below the mountains
and melts over the sky
mixing into blues and purples
and splattering scattershot stars
back beyond my head
the trees chuckle at my wonder
as the wind dances through the forest
like a centaur and a nymph
and she is flicking my hair
becking me to lie down in the sweetcorn
with the rabbits
and the beetles
and the warm, rich heartbeat
of the world's green laughter
and Lord
I feel all right
even though I'm weeping and trembling
nothing but a babe
in the womb of the world.