Fleeting ideas

The thoughts are whispering again,
Melodic, like a fading song.
They rise in waves, their voices echoing
In hidden chambers of my head.

Enchanting mirages,
Of rustling copper trees and sunsets,
And like the wind, they come and go,
Leaving behind a silent trail.

The voices of the colours
Are louder in the sun
Singing with life
Like birds and bees.

A beam of light, a knowing that there’s more
An urge to share but what is there to say
As soon as words are crafting up some sense
The golden leaves are fading
The breeze of life eluding
The glimpse of knowing dissipates
Chasing the meaning is futile
I wish there was an easy way

For me to open up the door
And let them out
Hoping they’ll find a home
Another soul to let them in.