The Beating Heart Of Passion

A beating heart pounding against a golden plain
freshly mourning in morning dew .
Its widened traditional following of wistful wheat
resting with orderly ease
against the burning bastion of the buoyant sun .

Beating with the bleeding drums of this earth
awakens the forthcoming crooning
of the crystal eyed wind .
Its errant tune, torrid yet waning
whistles through the tightening entrails of dirt.

Flauntingly flowing, it tauntingly beckons
the nature’s relentless roots of
an archaic anchor , chained to a challenge .
To writhe , to rake , to rise
the farthest from the cattle
of the evergreen.