Swifts Above

21 July, 2004

grey smoke, like silver birds
circles up high
quest to free

green eyes, vain, but not afraid,
fleeting love
match the tips of the old man tree

swifts above, high up, near god
on thermics, circle and cry, going with the flow
tilting in the sun
like my body with yours

hard tiles, covered with foreign cotton
with love and labour once sewn
and burnt elements
quickly paste and pushed
in the cotton, webbed, fixed to eternity
Of stories and tears untold
I bleed my feelings in thy world

Walking thy womans walls
light and darkness so near
vales of motherhood
crying soft - dare?
respect and greed
so near and yet so far

And thou I lay
heart of joy

crack, its on the move
of strength, or weakness
the seed of power
escaping the hold
crying, to be free
searching the way
from dark to light

where am i
big guns of navarrone
of evil and yet joy
my inside out

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