Heather

There is an age old flute

dripping it's music

from my heart into the air.

Soothing me, I see the notes

and I try to capture them 

with my tongue,

every note, seems to form

words into loss, into love

into unknowing, into knowing

and round again, picking me 

up..up..then down again.

swinging back and forth

in the sway of the pines

everything I read, I hear

a voice speaking, 

your voice, your song...

and it fills me with a

Vestal hope in sunrise

and I can't help but

slow my feet, turn

and look behind me

as if someone had called my name

from somewhere in the

ethereal, lifting me from

the nether to glide along

the heartland

where dreams are my reality

and the windsome breeze is 

a caressing hand as it skims

the lavender constancy of the 

bowing heather.

Reviews

[emmajoy]

What a beautiful piece of writing, it creates a very peaceful stream of thought along with distinct but gentle visuals .. and, of course, the picture highlights that.

' .. look behind me ~ as if someone had called my name ~ from somewhere in the ethereal, lifting me from ~ the nether to glide along ~ the heartland~ where dreams are my reality .. '

[Allen Smuckler]

beautiful...peaceful and as you so aptly described......ethereal.
Your images swept me off my feet...or was it the caressing hand or windsome breeze. Either way, Somerista, I loved it and feel at peace.
thanks
allen

[Stacey Watts]

Another softly flowing work of art from you. The imagery takes you on a peaceful journey here. Nicely written.

[...]

This was a lovely peaceful melody to read :)

[The White Wolf]

This is so lovely. I am not going to leave a long review but this touched me deeply. It is beautiful poetry.