A Will Alive

Poppies
On flanders fields
where poppies grow
the fragrance of
my presence
resides.
It calls to loons
on yonder ponds
to trumpet forth
the battle cry.

Alone I am,
aware of all,
I bend and
flow through consequence
and when my fate
is written forth,
I walk beyond
the precipice
of life
where all agrees
and is alive,
where stars and
galaxies unite,
where breath
and life
all flow to
me,
sequestered in
the mystery.

Until that day,
I walk at bay
and revel in
the vast parade.
To be alive
a gift to give,
surrendered will,
imaginative.

 

image courtesy: freedigitalphotos.net/nickcoombs

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