POETRY

Aberrant You

Lavers of lucent love in the ravine, 

Of melody, wealth, and rapturous dreams; 

Sophistry seafaring goes unheard—

Purified remedy by the valley's songbird.

The vim of its patina does such a dance! 

Succor of willows; their motherly stance, 

Wind on your nose; the kiss of God's breath, 

In the dolorous void of innocence's death. 

When you were dreaming, you thought of the thing, 

The prestige and covet under its wing? 

A dream seems so heavy— at the same time, so light, 

The songbird's unheard, and wonted, takes flight.

The fallow is docile—you ardently search, 

The virile volition in the songbird's white birch. 

But what of the nest the songbird deplored? 

How is it odious? How will you abhor? 

But littoral waters as pure as night's day, 

Flood beating red vessels, and washes away, 

The maritime's anger; so does mortal spite, 

Repudiate the anguish and prostrate to rites. 

The providence of will is then to be seen,

Like rain washed away, the lea's evergreen, 

Clear as horizons— fate's frugality, 

Acquiescence and doubt are then your enemies.