Soul Catharsis

Alive, for still I smell the fragrance of the fields.
The chill of the rising winter breeze, sweet
Touch the morning dew drops; crystalline prisms
Playing wavelets of rainbows upon my worn Soul.

And I lay, to the harmonious caress of softness
Of rainwashed meadows, fragrant with the wind.
Remembering the Angel touch—featherlight Love,
Carefree hearts entwined in the Afterglow of memories.

Embrace then, I, the ethereal Sunrise mist.
My Spirit reveling, awaiting the coming God light.
Atoms in zeta potential freedom: a supernova birth.
Chained no more to the bliss, once— a youthful Kiss.