Take me back to my roots
Like fallen Autumn leaves
Amber and mahogany hues
Laid to rest neath still branches
Solemn beings conversing with the skies
Human pleads and heavenly sighs
The wind no longer rustles the trees
No waves that drape the oceans and seas
The sun shines but its warmth is cold
No shelter from the wind
Nor cover from the rain
The stillness the heart knows so well
The phantom pain
Cleaving the crevices of my soul
The phantom pleasure, desired by all
Take me to my roots
The one I love.
It is unspoken, primeval, arcane--a feeling, an aura resonating from the nether realms of one's spirit.
An unspoiled haven where remnants of divinity still linger.
Where man yet converses with Eternity.
It is rich in color; nurturing in its hues.
It is what binds, traversing all that stand in its path.
It cannot be seen, but it reverberates, pulsating from the inner reaches of the soul, faintly seeping through the orifices of our corporeal shells.
A subtle warmth resounding from our center, turbulent waves, encased in utter stillness--fleeing, fleeting--yearning, pursuing the object of our intention.
