Dreaming of Singing (day 1100)

A range of extremes rushing through my heart
Billows and swells my emotions alive.
So I, all exposure; wind at my neck,
Look to the distance with dreamy eyes sans regret.
Moments that crawl deep in mud
Shaking mystery free from it’s longing and clutching grasp.
A sad song sung alone, echoing off towering cliffs.
A sweet song sung on a bellowing clarinet.
Could you lie to me just a little bit longer?
Rush to my head on a caffeinated high.
Your sprouts in my garden are light in my eyes,
And singing alone’s become quite obscene.

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