Spirits, free, dancing amidst Willow leaves,
Loved ones reach out in hope they will listen,
Bashfull, dainty, for those who know, believe;
As virgin dawns lay soft while dews glisten.
Such beauty of dappling sunlight, warming,
Warmth to the touch of the stone where you lay;
Your naked truth on warm west winds, riding
Free of old chains that bound you to today.
But the destiny of time still takes hold;
Childlike you worry at a loose silk thread
While mumbling on memories now so old,
Lifes tapestry rests, worn, against bedhead.
For your soul to be free amidst the trees,
No more indignity . . . but still you wait
For gentil westing winds to ride with ease,
To rest far beyond the summer lands gate.
©Julian Clarke 2016