As the dogwood turns

As the dogwood turns,
so follows the season.
And all our aspirations
go for naught without reason.

The Swan of Tuonela

The Swan of Tuonela

You were a dream to me, I could not conceive
heighten tension sliding below
ebbing higher gently swayed as in a breeze
softly enunciating naivety

Flutter by, but don't wave
don't see me below your soaring wing
perceive your world, but not my black watery depths
awakening beyond as light permeates mist

Full and rich depths surround
as grand aura fills my sound
your lone voice observes alone
higher still - would we soar at the same height?

Yet not together
Take a bow and smile

www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbiNqfZuEgY