Pathways to the moon
Above the hidden
the stars,
high beyond
the whispering tops
of trees,
the moon
slipped between
the clouds
of midnight,
and spread diamonds
of constellations
in their thousands
upon the silver
the branches
of yesteryear’s
leaves,
For as I travelled,
along the moonlit,
the pathways,
hidden in winter,
the darkness,
dreaming
of the light,
airs and perfumes
of a still
and sleeping spring,
I saw glimpses
of summer time,
in the rising lift
of morning
in the hushed
breath and quiet
that only
a passing
winter night
can bring.
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p1964km@googlemail.com
