The Pollen


Of the things that are bright
Some things are light
Floating away in the breeze
To where only they know to go
And the mind of their maker
Can only watch
Not expecting pain nor pleasure
At the unfolding of the plan.
He brought the sky and the sea
Together at the meridian
But surely when he sees
The blessed child running wild,
He is somewhat entertained:
By the deepened plot
And the expanded views,
By the sensational news
From the shadows made darker
On the crooked path,
And by the spirit of adventure
That treads not the measured lines
Of the great expectations.

Of the things that are bright
Some things are light
Landing softly in the stillness
Somewhere over the rainbow
And the heart of their maker
Perhaps, feels a certain glow.

Rome 13 12 2009