Wilderness draws my flesh toward its paralleled world
Where I cast aside the pink glow of a suburban imbalance
So that I may capture solace where apricot summers unfurl
Corn fields will stretch forth in rows of edible yellow
While inside a country church, destiny eagerly dances
As the minister echoes soulfully about fig tree branches
I escape the asphalt cobwebs that block bucolic scenes
As I sojourn to a place where lies a skin of stillness
And the sun speaks with colors that mimic golden sheens
Where the wind speaks softly about the dust of time
And crinkled orange leaves tumble-speak in stages
Parallel is my soul; let me abide in summer's apricot pages
