My thoughts go a-gliding on gossamer wings
to peep at the eastern sky
Burnished with the maiden blush of dawn
it spreads a carpet of molten gold
to herald the beaming prince of light.
They dart and flit in the valley of flowers
to glean for me their stunning splendors
and warble strains of sweet gratitude
in tune with the birds and humming bees.
Jubilant in their boundless flights
they hobnob with the gentle breeze
and confer with the wise old trees
whispering secrets beyond the grasp
of beings endowed with normal sight.
Blithe progenies of lush imagery
they venture into woodlands
zoom up snowy peaks
plunge into the deep blue seas
and unravel to me their mysteries.
As night's tar dyed mantle enfolds the world,
like friendly ghosts they frolic among stars
then billowing down on silver beams
they array my darkness in a blaze of dreams.