Ethereal

I dream of beauty
As if it were not the wind
Stirring the shadows
Nor the blossom bright,
Inviting the eye's admiration,
Neither the gentle waters
Reminding the pebbled shore
Of rhythm in motion.

I dream of beauty
As if it were not forgotten,
Unencumbered souls
In union unguarded,
Ethereal light caressing
The  spirit's surface,
Awaking the conscience external
To origins pure.