Chachapoya

Sometimes it wisps on like Cirrus Yet somehow rolls in Stratus Either way it lips over the grey lake The scenery unfolds overcast Before the eye is the bitterest Sweet symphony in foliage In the seeing of it Once again By the solemn even solo Always somehow Feels the same A jasmine goodbye I say From standing quite in it Silent in the roaring rain All the while it churns on like beasts In the moving mountains roaring air Like a breath it goes in to where it never ends To the pines sweeping of the midnight swelter To where sweat feels like immortal light Either way of the solstice Frost sleeps like the day on Christmas morning But to be found in the most intimate of parts Is the wanting of sinful seasons chastened To have it from the heart of spring to fall Out it stretches like the hand of time Sounding after an echo's stork Silhouette that left the sky The role of unfolding it Cumulus Faced nimbus to die Black against the horizon The orange of the water-fowl Yet gathers on for the race But to wisp on like Cirrus Stratus rolls on in grace

CuldeSac

What are words without understanding and what is understanding without sense?

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