Summer
The sun defines the beacon of the seasons
Southern breezes whistle dreams into one's path
Notions once past return with strength and promise
Summer whispers the ripening of future
Cool grass beneath calloused soles speaks to spirit
Spirit responds by soaking earth with her tears
Those gone before seem nearer
Days presented on extended fingers
Mama wake me from sleep unslumbered
Lest I linger in intoxicated bliss
The fruits of a trifling journey
Laid bare upon the robin's chest
Dreams once dreamt return vivid
A spark reignited from a cold ember
Hope emerging through the silent creeping
The sweet, lingering scent of honeysuckle on the vine
~ R.L. Morgan
