| Written: JAN 6, 2004 |
Lost, imprisoned in beauty,
A pastoral magnificence hindering.
Locked in the old ways,
Those of us with talent alone
Escape, never to return.
With that said my heart
Calls me home absolute.
It is not the clandestine wilderness,
Nor the loved ones I possess;
But you, whom I would come to love.
Finding once more this dark heart,
I rejoice at its continuance.
It beats for a beautiful artist now;
A union of hearts predicted:
You bring me Home.
