Friday, July 24, 2009

Come, Sing, Live

Come! Come as the spring.
Primavera so slow.
Anticipation brings,
Great desire fulfilling joy.
Until birds, flowers and bumblebees,
Finally come,

Sing! Sing as the song.
The flamenco dancer plays,
Melodious and fast,
Rhythmic beyond all music.
Until the listener dancers within.
Joyfully sing,

Live! Live as the man,
Who knows what really counts.
Who stores up memories,
And gives out certain love,
And doesn’t hold life so close it isn’t
Really lived.

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