Dream of Blue

There is nothing special in an autumn crocus,

I can see it in your eyes and in your stance,

This violet chalice with anthers of powdered gold

Is hardly worth to you a second glance.

I ask you to come closer and look deep

Into the mystery unfolding here

But your mind has raced ahead to other things;

I drink alone from the cup of the waning year.

How fleeting are the days as beauty flees

Across the landscape of the busy mind.

Let me not speak to you of daffodils,

Asters or chrysanthemums that find

Their way into my too-full heart this hour

As frost and chill bite deep into the skin,

Or how I work in wonder and delight

In this paradise that we are living in,

For our souls have come to earth once more to see

This dream of blue that is our destiny.