A Poet’s Work

As though the poet
calls forth a yearning
to go outside oneself,
into the unknown,
where the spirit of the wind dances
with the sprites and fairies of the old forest,
and flowers bloom
into the transparent observatory
that looks impartially on all things.
When the soul opens up
to the fact of its energetic existence,
translating the frequencies of the Universe,
and the colors become blinding
in their transcendence.