Lyrics

Rooms of Exitation.

In the morning mist
opening a window, slow,
birds perch on branches, glow
like dewdrops brief as time in sunlight snow,
where mermaids gather sprouts of foam and sing their silent rhyme for now.
The morning sun drips silence through the summer shouldered elms.
The scent of honey overwhelms,
where flowered wings of insects sail the garden nectar realms,
and during breakfast tea and lemons paint their pollen helms.
And then at moments of wet crystals, released in sheeted shoals,
the tepid rain falls on the surface of the ford, that is to say,
just when the sermons clinging to the bells at nunnery and noon two miles away.

A bubble grows.
A circle is then largely drawn
on fish ponds on the sprinkled lawn.
Then suddenly a smaller one.
As Time walks into Rooms of Exitation,
day dreaming manifest, in hibernating grottos of pale light and recitation.
The noon conch blows along a nameless river; knows,
that weaving spruce winds do bring all the springtime evenings to my shadowed house.

In times of spleen,
when memory do rest like messages in bottles beached,
upon the heart’s desire, no one reached.
A woman's haste exists on written leaves I touch.
Arrival stays quite opulent and close for those who never oversleep or drowse.
Fierce riders on the waters, darting here and there.
Bright lotus fields and daisies swaying freely everywhere.
Your ears must be filled with sounds of owls and falcons on your way,
when climbing oaken hills in spiraling her majesty the Lark's high heights in May.
The rustling of sweet feet through leaves of grass,
along the lee shore of wild mountains steepened pass.
Beside stone avalanches, moss of old,
awaiting tales and mysteries of the untold.

A bubble grows.
A circle is then largely drawn
on fish ponds on the sprinkled lawn.
As Time walks into rooms of exitation,
day dreaming manifest, in hibernating caves of pale resuscitation lights.
The night's late conch, when airy pressure blows
along darkened, tumbling rivers in the shire,
where wondrous pine winds bring my painted lover
during summer nights in summer clothes,
my shadowed house desire.