Vent

I am a windsail
For all to find their way
Creeping over the wall
Guiding you through
Your nightmares
I have a gold chain
For you to hold
To draw you up
Like the length of my hair
From the bannister
We think our times are
Different
Yet so much remains the same
The stars the moon
A biodome of gloom
Would soon be wasted
In the exuberation
Of the slap from
Ocean wave
Make not your grave
Before me
But a light of
Glittered glory
I shall carry you
Like wind the vent
Of days
From Singapore to France
Maketh thy heart
An open chance
As to exist
In what big belly
Of life’s boat
Remains still precious
To stop the grinding
Of the loss
Let bitterness
Like nets be tossed
To hear the pecker
On clean wood
Vibrantly round
Procure the sound
Of yet another day
Rebounding
The sun hath risen once again
Majestically displayed

© GÄ