the goatherd at the pasture

Under the weeping water of the night sky
a cover of tattered cloth and broken bough
when Dawn's Left Hand was in the Sky
sweetness into bitter run your visage present

Now the dawning day reviving old desires
the moon bidding bye to the northern star
yet the thoughtful heart ever so bleeding
of night of day and of lost reveries

The restful soul to emancipation retires
Skewed the mind is locked naught in divine
Beauty is gone with all its petals
The clouded garment of serpentine flung

The bird of smile had but a little way
Learning to spread its wings but crudely flung
The first summer month went its wintry ways
A thousand blossoms to fire seared

Where the body lies the mind does not
the heart ever so very far from serenity
It’s life has been bled drop by drop
It’s stolen beats keep failing one by one