Mood Ring Winter


Slipping on,

All in good festival fun,

A familiar swirling mystery,

After the evening sun,

Past the parting Autumn sun.

Abrupt fierce force,

Matchless color matching my eyes,

Transparent hues,

Cold hazey skies,

Chilling blue, white, gray, colorless skies.

Ice air,

Breath of cold emotion,

Foliage tested until bare,

Numb from blood’s remotion,

Numb tip blood starved by your devotion.

Blues lingering horn,

While twinkle white fragments ravish,

Caught up in the wind’s confusion until my hands are worn,

Revealing chafing savage,

Exposing my heart’s savage.

Framed in the setting of man’s shapeless designs,

Fog, haze, memory?

The squirrel’s storage house is empty,

Birds sing out in the distance,

Spring birds echo dawn’s chorus in the distance.

Green moody,

The whole earth wrestles with the angel,

blessed halfway relief,

Hope lies in the Supreme clock,

His time can not be measured by man’s devices.

Lighter now after the light white disappeared,

Not yet, but soon,

Longing for your leave to look forward to your coming,

Heaven’s moon shines your homeward path,

You will return home again and again until the King comes.

Bless all who read here.

~ by dyingtoproduce on January 15, 2010.

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