There are no dark and dreadful days,
No storm clouds, nor mighty winds,
To break this unrelenting pace.
Bright dawns fade to dreary grey
And ravishing reds, they mellow.
Soon the molten fog returns.
Tarnished gold, below this inky surface,
Waves against fallen gods,
Metallic expressions forlorn,
Adorned in mineral wealth.
A single note floats on the breeze,
A ballad without words.
A melody, feather light and flexible,
A tiny breath of warmth,
From within the moist fog,
A distance away,
The simple tune continues
Another call, so tentatively,
And then again it's still.
The melody stands complete.
A smile graces chubby cheeks.
From beneath the sea, great giants rise,
To dance upon the sudden breeze,
Flirting with the water's surface,
Pulling what was lost from the depths.
Like a pagen dance for long lost joy,
Giddy in their gold.
Bright bursts of sun through the shifting cloud,
Orange skies to watch this private waltz
Ever this way, ever that,
Skipping, skimming, ever faster,
'till at last the smile fades.
Off now to bigger, better things,
Simple joy's forgotten.
Like wind up dolls,
These mammoths lapse,
Circles winding ever closer
Ripples fade, into the ink.
Again, all is still,
And mountains sleep.
Until the breeze picks up again