Die To The Past

No time before the blossom

The powdery nectar migrates

From my lips to the jungle of my beard

I close my eyes to all yesterdays

My tongue traces my lips

Down into my nectar coated beard

I take sustenance from the moment

I have breezed through the pasture

For days and years

I have lived the hurt in all seasons
The drip is no longer connected to the torrent

Now there is only a hollow pulse

That reflects the land of was

My lips tasted the orchid

I now live in the land of no more

I never thought the wind would roll around me

Caressing me into the sun's embrace

Who would have thought orchids

Were enough

There was so much space in the music

I fell into it