"dripping" by Chuck Beals

dripping


it's a dripping ice cream of memory
in the sure hands of a wondrous child
I am smiling into the wind
and I own each sunset evening

it's a chrysanthemum promise
held high in the air like a chief's son
sparking brushfires of innocent passions
so long ago it is ancient

it is pure adrenaline joy
flowing like waterfalls of moonlight
capturing the freedom of birds
focused on an endless wistful journey
of movement and becoming

it is a thought held for so long it trembles
struggling for air in a labyrinth of wait
it exceeds the fearful grasp
and visits the sleepless night

it is love and a world of wisdoms
packaged like valentines
ribbons of sailing dreams
flying through warm skies on daring wings

it is a place where I am returning
leaving gray walls to their insecurities
and insignificant distractions to their long winded lords

it is a hope, a want, a boy's quiet song in the woods
walking slowly to the pasture
on a dew-grassed morning
and laughing as brave as a king

_________________________� Chuck Beals September 15, 1998

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