back to Spring

Open Fields / So Many Roads To Leave You

Valleys flow, as rivers, over time, do
green the colour
high the reasons
left the wind

Oxygen is the longing
blue its name
onward's called the game for our horizons
empty crystals high, like winterlight

Mirrors on the mountains that are said to be beyond the edge of vision
a lonely megalith biparts the sundown
biographies of God, and still a dream

Ashlars of life lie heavy on the country
the sphere is flat, time already staked out
a topographic fading of the past that leaves no movement
lines deviate beneath a falling sky

High the times (history)
higher the times (reason)
now (future)

Open fields
so many roads to leave you
it's cold outside