Liberated

If I could only be a sunbeam free of a bone locker body

Ablated eyes now outdated, sated with white and black 

I'd write poems of beauty, paint brushed feelings eyes can not see

Sculpting words a masked brain does lack prisoner of a mortal sack

Writing with fingers of sun rays, colored emotion flowing from its gaze

Black ink drawn from well of night written beneath emotion's burning oil light

Ancient songs unknown, ultraviolet rainbows not yet grown, infrared blaze

Written on paper clouds of white on which a fading verse to write 

Words spoken in thundering waves lit with lightning's strobe light rays

Meaning in the songs of birds seasons drawn in sprouting words

Enlightenment falling as drops of rain watering roots mountain to plain

Oh but what it would be to feel and see with the root and leaves of a tree