I am the wind,

Carrying, Carrying,

Carrying.

The copper sea floods me from ear to ear,

Resilient in the space between the eye and the brow,

The constitute parts of the flowing narrative

Resting in the anxious knowing of how.

Wake in your grass, leaves on your mouth

Drifting off in the nautilus south,

Dreaming inside the ghostly sheath,

Shadowed by the sweet Zagreus wreath.

Thumping, the wine draws through,

Round and round, thumping through,

Channeling the chalice of the crystal steer,

From in, the bloody blue,

From in, the timely true.

Fearless and framed, the lonely post is named,

Future and fame, the wooded plot is found,

Standing strong, a summer moon,

Falling over, the drapery rune,

Deeply, we hide beneath,

Lemmings dotting the winter spoons.

Onto grey, our image projects,

For it is the neutral stone you most reject.

Balance the jester, the sexual hues,

Knitting the father of the spools,

Loving the mother of the fools.

Heartful homes, we regress, true,

Paining presence, we repress, sooth

Mantled shadow over the fireplace blue:

Blackberries read in ignorant dues.

Lovely tears, yet fearless true:

I most admire you.

Resilient waves, thundering caves,

I speak of you too,

For it is through the wind, wrapping round and round,

Round and through:

That I,

That I most carry you.