The laburnum trees sing in spring.
If, underneath them
Standing you stare,
Into their golden realms of twisting light;
A sound reaches out
Gentle hum, at first;
Grows
As senses merge with nature,
Noises, visions of gold, colours burning,
And scent!
Delicious, sweet, hanging heavy
In teardrops of perfume.
Soon you are consumed
By light, smell and sound,
Such beautiful sound,
Which captures you,
Enraptures you
In gleaming fold on fold,
Envelops your existence
Lifts your mind into daydreams,
Technicolour landscapes
Where no ghosts haunt.
You are united with song,
Which rises into the air
And on breaths of soft wind
Travels into distance.
Dancing light dazzles
As all memories become truth
And you become part of them.
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