A Composer.
a composer
I will never forget
a journey
to the realm of my soul
his light leads
dispells the darkness
clouded brain
unveils the glorious
world of the sane
Wagner
a man
inside a purple mountain
alone
rainy mists
gave that mountain
mystique
and mystery
all in one
path led up to the mountain
and into it
wide enough for one
wildflowers grew
as they do
in the mountain
caressed by dew
yellow in spring
and blue
in winter the green
of the underglade
little did
little men know
they were planted
in his teens
the sun beat down on our heads
as we ascended
as the call led
the old man's haunt, to our dread
was a great many mile
in our head
there was no sound
to guide us
no millenial mile post
to the sky
soft as sunshine
is the virgin bush
no bees
in the trees
no birds
hear our call
and no ancestors
lingering spirits
no snake in the grass
met our elevation
thank goodness
no perspiration
a rabbit ran out
hiding in the underbrush
it turned and looked
from a safe distance
we travelled 2 hours
to the foot of the mountain
and travelled two more ascending the heights
and drank from a stream
but no lantern
from a hut
greeted our team
and in the stillness
we heard the mountain scream
as if blowing up
but in our dream
we plodded on
into the night
alone on the track
or so it seemed
but descending ever so slow
we knew it was him
who greeted us
in the moonglow
he knew our coming
saw our surprise
the man was armless
in the moonrise
we struggled up the purple mountain
we struggled down
and we knew the secret
with tears in our eyes
of the mountains cries.
