Nature

Oh mysteries so real,
Your thoughts in my heart,
You seem as the birds,
So near,
Yet so far.

You sit on the edge of my dreams
In a fog.

Cascades of hair
O'er your shoulders draped long,
Billowing clouds swelling great mountains,
Unfathomable silence of storms in the heavens.

None can be mine
But to ages belong,
The breath of a moment
And then I am gone.

To the music step I
The song's in the air
Your wind blows my fingers
But never my hair.

Will the veil lift at dawn?
But then it's too late.
Sing to me now,
Swing wide the gate
And let me not to ignorance go.

Sing to me now
So I too may know.

© 1986 Thomas A. Ekkens

This poem is from Collected Poetry of Thomas A. Ekkens—Early Works.

You can also see this above stipple drawing, Self-portrait of an Artist in His Twenties (1 of 3), in our Artwork section.