The
ring
© 1977 by Jim Andris
Hear the winding, turquois tone that turns upon itself,
Intertwining silver, reappearing like an elf.
See the bluebird silhouetted black against the sky
Wanting only freedom now to sing, to love, to fly.
Hear the magic music coming from another space,
Casting dancing shadows through your ears onto your face.
Wish that you and he will soon no longer be apart.
Feel the mellow moving, still the racing of your heart.
Peaceful, yellow butterfly, he sees you waiting there,
Resting undulating wings that soon will beat the air.
He knows that he's affecting you in certain subtle ways;
The beauty of your fleeting form is cradled in his gaze.
He sees that what you are is what his soul can only sing,
His song is like the dazzling, silky crystals of your wing.
He's been soaring near your flower-covered hillside as of late,
And he wonders if the bluebird and the butterfly can mate.
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