Imagination of the Mild

When I in want of silent stillness search for leisure of my will
I do placate my natural mind to the depths of my own kind
that abides in places mild where what is known was once the wild.
Imagination unbridled, free, adrift in winds above the seas,
in hands that toiled in dirt of earth giving life in endless births
to flowers, songs and celebrations of adventures and hibernation
drinking wines of passions true, voicing visions out of the blue,
basking in the warmth of sun, where all is welcome to become
a lasting art of living fair where none is shunned and devil beware,
the voices of the living rise in melodies beyond the cries
where none have heard so sure a sound that can be found on yonder ground
and youth is not a wished for thing but brought anew in shower rains
to wash away the makeshift madness and bring to life a new day's gladness,
running with the tides of time, lilting in the soul of minds,
who never falter or besmirch the chance again to bring with mirth
a new beginning to create the time of day with all due haste
thus to be a day where lived the friends of all who care to give
a word, a rhyme, a flower bloom, a tale to spin on spinning loom,
a thread to stitch a phrase to page and thanks to grace a newborn sage
who in a search of their own will did themselves duly instill
a sail to hoist to catch the wind and chart a course without an end
to thrash and breach the walls that hold the natural wild of poet's soul,
breaking loose and setting free the words of wonders that will be
a freedom born to voice the wild imagination of the mild.

Jade Jaspers