going around now, cups empty
carrying only shadows
~Machado
our soul tries to reach
a sense of purpose
like clusters of bamboo
waving for a closer view
we fall into spring
as easily as laying down
in fields of daisies
with no motive found
no soul song is sung
no guitar is strummed
just ears perched high
odes chime from winged sky
linger like silk lingerie
against spring skin
on a sweaty hot day
we allow it in
osprey return early
nests plumped
with earthen efficiency
what is unworldly
consumes what we speak
greatness in soul's evolvement
how we wish to wing
on wing this song
still viewing flying fish
shining shortly, story spawned
Kate Lamberg
3/22/12
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