Bloom

How fall the horses' hooves upon mossy ground, As the earth below crumbles to dust. Then wooden wheels trample the barren, Ground parched with water's lust. The beast is barren for the harvest gold, As the sun races across the flannel sky. When all behold the beast has reared, For a falling flower in the rye. Words like music float from the fallen lily, A question in the coda they form. Why oh why you beast of light, Have torn me from the ground. There was an ocean in the face the music formed, Red roses beneath the mountain shade. Like a tremulous stem of lotus blooms, Upon the white tree the face laid. The winter child alighted upon the ground, And laid his lips among the roses. Then turned to the fallen flower as, The evening sky's light door closes. He lays the lily among the groves, And smiles as the flower sighs. The love of her floats like mist, For the winter child as she cries. And then he falls as the lily dies, From his unforgiving barren cold. And as the winter falls the fields explode, In frozen lilies of gold.