There are still suns and starsFrances Fay
that rise and go down
like waves of a space ocean
scattered with the seeds of time
and ecstasy in the unfolding
womb of a silent Universe.
There are still fields of gold
in the eye of the beholder
in the hands of the beloved
open to the starry flux
bending and winding through
the woods of forgetfulness.
There are still untrodden paths
waiting to be found anew
by those who can listen to
the ancient voices of the land.
There are still mazes and canopies
of pine trees weaving arabesques
of lace in the sky
leaving behind the scent
of a luminous dream.
And you, who listen to the wind
and look for the old ways beyond
cities and palaces and shopping malls,
find the water thread that
never fails, the stream that
never dries up.
Drink and spread the news
of a day full of blossoms and bees.