Soon,
Fate will let her hair down,
falling like
a golden fleece,
to wrap us in the warmth
of unobtainable dreams.
Soon,
Fate will let her hair down,
falling like
a gentle snow,
to help shed new light
on the dead and dying.
Hopefully soon,
Fate will let her hair down,
and with a grin,
let something good shake loose
from behind her ears.
very cool… I like this feeling of optimistic fatalism… maybe not “fatalism” in the strictest sense… but that quiet wisdom that comes with the embracing of the world on it’s own terms… almost yearning for change however destructive it may be.
your first verse has a rythm that seems absent in the other verses. I liked the undulating feel of the first verse… but then I’m a sucker for Waterson-esque poetry;)
good one bro!
December 22, 2012… I’ll be sitting on a mountain top with a head-full of mushrooms, basking in the warm glow of an enormous bonfire waiting for the aliens!
save me a seat…