Drifting In Future Meditations

Around The Future

i spent the morning on the mountain, roaming like a drifter, searching a new way to chase away my stress,
and spill out the bitter spleen in my heart, striding along, passing every stone, climbing each rock,
hearing every bird sending his complains, filling the dead void with a thousand sighs..

The pine forest lies quite on the steep rocky plain, anchored firmly to a childhood earth,
as some joyous robins and goldfinch broke my thoughts with a twitter and a gentle birdie scream,

Seemingly, Spring has sped some happy harbingers to hail his coming before due times:
:locusts and butterflies skip hither and thither, now sucking on autumn buds, now fluttering in sunny rays;

Still, winter sheds a cold warmth, leaving misty horizons to fade over remote hills..
Time is still a spell of meditation over the passing time, and the coming future between two tense times,

and fuzzy visions.
The moment is precious and the time is flat like those far meadows where the eye loses its gleam...
Awaiting, here abiding, with pen holding all the pain, and leaving behind a poetic stain until further notice.