Meadows With No Clocks

By Craig Froman

A heron hovering flighting in sunlit skies winged breath in angel visions there are journeys with no footprints feathered wings in life's flight over meadows with no clocks only the trafficked flitter of butterflies only the roaring call of songbirds how the soul seeks rest songs of the Sabbath no warring factions feathering fractions

Sing me songs of the meadowed millpond mirrors of melted anxieties drip dripping down tell me what life should feel like surely not this over-burdened fight not this darkened screeching night I want the feeling of lifting flight soaring over worlded wonders breathing cloud crystals fly me over meadows with no clocks time there rides on a heron's wings…