Jun 19, 2011

Mateura

Mateura Mateura
Don't you want to know,
Where your son wants to lie?
In a lap? In a wrap?
In a red cozy cushion trap?
Or those leaves, with the wind they cry
Out for some space whispering...

Mateura Mateura
Don't you want to see,
Where your son flies free?
Through the break of a brook,
And rustle of the breeze,
The flutter tailed grey bird
Glides at ease, shivering...

Mateura Mateura
Don't you want to be,
Where your son stays in glee?
Across canopies of pine, in green serene
Among apples and peaches and plums pretty purple
While a white giant from the distance, stares at me
Gleaming, ...glistening, ...listening