Lament oh! Sureties of that unspoken word
rise high enough to touch the cosmoses then retreat
for we have far to race and endow the tributes they beseech
in praise and worship of a naked thought.
Suppling testimonials from the heart—
of which we ask be still—you drum too loud
and wake the weeping willows from their sleep…
as hummingbirds shine in emerald array.
and try to match the golden splendor of the sun—
humming their accolades—keen and rare
enlightening the servants of the winds
to blow a little softer in their paean.
Zealously we move in to applaud
and reach out to touch that secret dream
from which that naked thought is born—
rewarding us with glee…
Lament no more my friends in love, I plead
for love is meant for many thoughts to keep engaged—
the glory which inside our hearts and minds, does breed
and yet, that one naked thought is still in need
to make complete the wonderous emotion of them all.