in which I plunge with feather clouds
and spread fairy treasures.
Yet I return to roots of blaze,
imago and steel pleasures
for these are mere eternal bounds
which keep my soul in gleams.
You want a love to grow in seasons
like water lilies that leap in faiths
and bring the heaven's eye ahead
and multiply the doors of Eden.
No wonder if being an angel or Elysian dead…
It is your fulfilled dream, that slips
through rains and summer treasons.
These are two autumns never accounted,
the tales of those that mark the view,
play touch and go and draw the blue
that skies upon the world surrounded.
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