Morning Flowers

Morning flowers 

Drenched and soggy

I desire to sleep for a while, 

I ruminate...

I have the same dream on the same shore

The yawning sea ...

And the poised seashore 

The dream which is the language of the Unknown 

So strange and so rare 

So lovely and so fair 

But

Angst-ridden I 

Born to die 

Lonely, pensively 

Into the self-made bedlam 

Without light and gleeful song