Leap
                    
                    Down a road of swirling fogs
And through screens of rural grey, 
Life moves onward blindly, 
Complete in disarray. 
No ferns or mosses, No seed
To heal men’s fruitless losses.
A black and barren land it seems
Will fill the voids of my dreams.
Until merging into view  
From fogs and churning rains, 
Visions of a Willow Tree 
Lend branches down, onto me.
Her trunk stands mellow, and graciously 
Flowing by is the spine
Of her drooping leaves.
Up her bark I then twine to climb, 
To reach her timbered peak.
Hanging, climbing, leaping, soaring, 
And from cleft to branch I rise, 
Grasping green and golden skies; 
Above that barren land
And it’s sea of rolling mist.
Sprays of light dance round me, 
As the Sun shines down his gift.