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Fleeting Visons - 05-06-02

Sunlite fingers through the weavings 
of fibers in the sun and wind
Leading a path of wonderous proportions 
on which the eyes may descend

Delicate rubies pouting and wet, 
afloat in the soft golden seas of the land
Awash with the silver sparkling moonlite 
off the finest grains of sand

A wave across obsidian 
made the blind man take a look
In the singing of an ecstasy 
by the meadow on the brook

The waters rose in unison 
to the sound of breaking glass
The silence of the evening sun 
was heard once it had past

Reflections in the water 
leave each vision trapped and bent
The nitely sprite of darkness 
now his golden sun was spent