Clouds Over The Valley

Clouds over the valley
Carpet the dreams of the olives
With one word: Infinite.
Rolling over the hill
Which the cross struggles to protect
From the godless winds,
They hold their positions,
Caught between heaven
And the Mediterrenean.
Orange nymphs roam the valley
Climbing small trees
And romancing the little lemons,
Golden fertility amidst
The wet slopes
Of a white destiny.

We all want to be everyone
Without ceasing to be ourselves.
I won't understand.
We are all being led to death,
Beyond the valley's arms,
Knowing this is knowing everything
Without understanding.

I want to be a spring,
So I can spread myself
All over the valley,
Across the emerald slopes
And into the soft depths.
The birds will find in me
Reflections of winter
That will glimmer in their eyes
Like Venus on a clear night.

All these things and more;
The clouds elicit all beauty
That is not made to last.
The rain of the black promise
Will liberate the senses
From contemplation
And into, ancient life.