Through a Whimsical Popsicle
The jelly-filled centre of an icicled popsicle,
Glistens to the rainbow-coloured mind so whimsical
Out in sunshine, the drops fall like shiny diamonds,
As wondrous as pearls of water on freshly washed lemons.
What if a soul so colourful may run dry one day?
Shrivel and wither, the creek of cold may wash it away.
Sigh and turn away, with nothing left to say,
Only to wish the hues may return, begone the gloom and gray.
The moon rose to grace the starry shimmer,
Water gurgled, clouds descended, the moon shone dimmer.
Far in the horizon, fixed was the solitary gaze,
Of a beautiful stranger, engulfed in a melancholic haze.
Lost in his thoughts, as he walked with muffled steps on the grass,
"A soul searcher, is he?" whispered the wind to the stars.
As the stars only dimmed in negation as a reply,
Ambled he, in sweet langour, oblivious of the quiet, discerning sky.
Lost in words, lost in time, he walked to the starry shore.
Stood there an apparition like a lonesome tree in the middle of a moore.
A cloud with a silver lining it appeared to be,
Was it more than what his eyes could see?
Time stood still, there was only the sound of universal silence,
And the wind rustled a blanket of mist on them so dense.
They stared at each other; every inch of their being rapt and intense,
While soaking every bit of this surreal essence.
He began to envision the Road of Light to hope and joy.
Long since he had dreamt of it, when he was only a boy.
A shadow of his future, the apparition was indeed,
The torch-bearer, it was of his heart, that he was to heed.
He felt the water slowly wash away his melancholy,
His heart bloomed in happiness, as bright as the vermilion fruit of holly.
Embraced he, the divine soul, a white cloud of hope with a silver line,Only to realize that all this while he had been dreaming a dream so fine.