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Summer's fingers
The place
where the land merges
to one
great expanse
but still
diverges
into
two
upon a line
blurred
by the windy howls
and the brisk
sharp whispers
that caress it
Upon this line
feet do not sweep
away
wasting
purpose
though they may
skim it
placing
pebbled
dirt
Rosy cheeks
grow numb
and fingers hard
Blood thins
and thickens
And for a brief moment
one may stand
upon this line
And one may see clearly
beyond it
both ways
and let eyes linger
to the mountain peeks
bathed in summer’s
fingers
brilliant
are its
meadows
blossomed
sweet and ripe
with dew dripping pedals
whose roots
entwine
and seem
to give life
to one another
skim the juices
that may burst
from fruits
grown plump
on trees
long and
flaked with age
yet beating
with warmth
Now just let
mind wander
once more
to the other side
darkened
by clouds
which shield
from it lightness
But do not let
sight deceive
in this beyond
Do not mistake
darkness
for treachery
If one reaches
hand outstretched
into this beyond
May it touch
chilled steel
devoid
of life
that clings
so preciously
to the other
side
or may it
encounter
knowledge
and yet
again
life
in
ageless darkness
Never known
to the side
of summer’s
fingers may
it be
But if one
must venture
forth
from this line
to the place
of darkness
For
numbness
has been
forever
entombed in
veins
Go on now
and do not
seek out
fear
But
freedom
Even
be it
from the nurture
of summer’s
fingers.
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