It's a many layered drifting mist
Inter-coursing with the clouds tonight
And with my breath, in cold commixing tryst,
Serves inspiration to my midnight sight!
These are the airs into which I was born...
Where starlight struggles through the nimbus gap
To hint at the vast beyond they adorn
In the infinite celestial map!
How could I not, in this, be a poet...
Where campfire smoke vorticals above
A land in which it will ever show it
That trading breath is the secret of love...
And Gaia herself will only stay young
When we recognize...she's an aqualung!