Oasis In The Sky
By Asylum
Tears of creation
fall from the overcast blanketing
of the
billowy, white fields overhead,
blended with a requiem
that
only the absence of dawn could manifest,
and kissed upon
by
the ever-fluorescent canvases
of smoke, and flame
that carelessly
intrude
upon the horizon.
Oh,
how fastidious
is the misting
that blesses this premature day,
invoking a
spontaneity
within the mundane clockworkings
that symbolically
define
the average,
the everyday
and the norm.
Glorious is this sight to behold.
Not only by our soulpanes,
but through the remainder;
our entire spectrum of sensory awareness
that we are so gifted to have received,
yet,
rarely do their
values go little more
than depreciated.
The refreshment
that quenches our starving skin,
and slowly enfilms us
with
the caressings of unrequited purity.
Can you feel it?
The dampening of the air
that perpetually enthralls
even the
most tolerant
resisters to aroma.
Can you smell it?
The crispness,
unadulterated,
and without perversions of
the modern day;
enrapturous are the resonant entrails of the strata
that ever so gently envelop,
and awaken our slumb'ring buds.
Can you taste it?
And finally,
but without conviction,
the resound of symphonic harmony,
abound with the alluring enchantment
that,
in seamless refrain,
could only be achieved
by such a reverent miracle of nature.
Can you hear it?
These are the moments in which I revel.
And blessed be
Her,
who benevolently grants us
with such an immaculance
of cornerless beauty.
Graceful, and sacred is the oasis
in the sky.