More than Once

                                          More Than Once
                              In my present form I am not what I am,
                                but a picture of innocent thoughts.
                            These lines are tethered to such mooring,
                              as the sky may not loft them into flight.
                          For such abbreviated times that I come to rest,
                                    soothed by the flowing stream,
                      my fiery marrow is cooled in the ever flowing dream.
                I will not struggle beyond the bonds of my desired intention,
    I will drift with my worn mind in such high times, to claim you as my seraph.
                To see beyond the green hills and the forever blue, I will run,
        I will run with such wind that the world will hold back with eyes closed,
      and feel my passing as the clean cool spring and the buds begin to grow.

                I will stand forever piercing stars beyond the darkened heavens,
  my cracked and withered face will remind us of the forever love which I will give.
                  Gently will I wipe your brow clean of all the world will lay;
                        gently will I hold your hand and fear, a day away.
                And we will curl upon the grass forever children in our love,
                          forever holding our warm secret in moist hands.

        When I rise again, to shake the collected dust from my moments rest,
    I will forget one blossom that I have plucked and rail against my auburn prison.
Remembering only, shackles that bind, for the sentence I have chosen is not  time,
  but a want of something else. And the smell of the wilting blossoms and the tree from which they came, will save me from my burning thoughts, to rest once more in flowing streams, to rise again in loves lost bloom.