Cold Whispers

Alert and wide eyed as an owl,
Weary of the sunny but cold day,
My gaze sharp, as a broken bottle,
To the strange symbols of that blazes with meaning

Strange sounds engulf my ears with a touch of quality,
Those that turn my eyes hot and grainy,
Exhaustion seem to dull my imagination,
As it drifts to memories that demands an audience

All the trees around me are spilled with a currency of shadows,
My hopes of discovering the meaning expiring slowly,
A quiet amazement caressed the air around me,
As I seem lost in a moment of transcendence

My imagination rang a whole tabernacle of bells,
Soft but cold breezes caressing my skin,
To a realization of an inner life deeper than science,
A profound feeling of a life so pure and worthy
With an humbling and immense power