Nectar

Slowing squeezing the landscape's
sangria of its rich full bounty
out of the blades, the bark and watery face.

Let it swirl its rust bouquet
in ascending visions ever rising
as the immersion of serenity’s drops
from each effervescent claret aura
felt coming from the tree, grass and lake.

One gasp, one breathless blink
and suddenly comes that awakening,
a soft and gentle mental leaf in flight.

Oh sweet hush that drinks the nectar
from bliss’s gossamer decanter
full of such deep intoxicating flavors
moving into the stillness
as the swim through life’s exquisite kiss
of calming ascension.

Copper hued caresses and dark emerald strokes
drift across the eyes
like a master’s paint brush
skillfully stroking the heart’s canvas.

What journey inward in tranquility
among the gods' banquet table,
lost in the quiet amplitude
where beauty begets its chorus.

This is the second of winged dreams,
the pure balm of inner revival
where one lies naked among the natural tapestry
because its textures are a tonic
fermented in a creator’s winery.

Inhaling the droplets with incredible peace,
a rush flows through the soul
and it has a floods through the cool tints
until eternity is the wind combing the spirit.

In once private moment of succumbing
forgotten is the cacophony warring in the self.
Replaced by the delicacy of something everlasting
so the day flees and light burns within
as an awe and euphoria
utterly drawing one
into the very center of the cosmos.