Chapter 1 – First Storm of Summer

16 May

I thought I was through

With naiveté.

The first storm of summer

Thundered upon me

Showering my tropical desert

With fairyland humility.

I am among the believers, yet

I lie not in beds of the believed.

My imagination wills itself happily

Into the realm of reality.

I am not lost

But a man might search lifetimes

If ever he found me.

Eyes closed to the rising sun

Look westward, full of moon.

I am the one

Who can heal your wounds

If you let me.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: