She walked the hallowed grounds of Elysian Fields the early spring thaws the buds promise.
Upon the hill one views our river James as imagining the legend of the river Styx.
No crossing boat or ferry needed as bridges eases the way of modern technology hums prevail.
Myths are ever fleeting as all dispelled to contemporary tragic death from creative delights.
Just eyes a wiser person closes desires reliving as child of wonder she asks an entrancing question.
Will legends emerge another birth this modern world can creative breath be drawn or gasps useless words?
The mental question those in repose silent still as the skyline of the modern city gleams past the river.
Walking wandering roads, a cold gale as small shadows cast off stones she notice hers towers all.
It is the peace that she comes to hear her thoughts as her voice is drowned among the noises of the city.
She hears upon the silence the answer as her life’s shadow engulfs memorials a voice from past recycles.
Another question in mental projection do they miss our life sounds or enlighten life’s retreat?
As her self-conscience answers, “Foolish heart, you disturb our silence volume your noise elsewhere!”
Now, that she found her second wind in serenity she rejoins the others all was needed a fleeting reminder.
Through shadows extended beyond the departure a reflective rear glance of past legends offered answers.
Enjoy a moments tranquility let hasten ones legend, silence comes soon enough go dear legend run.
For the legends of past where once living, they sang, entreated, pained and finally retreated.
Enable her life’s departs as stone runes forecast that had been past was once present life as thus.
So, the present hails a second breath of future beckoning, she must make a past now the reposed heard.
A moment in the Elysian Fields the wisdom of others stories has answers: you are your own legend answer yourself when hearing silence make your volume then know whether silenced life or just a dead songs sings.
She picnicked at the edge of the Elysian Fields to watch over our departed as they steward our future permitting our present spring blossoms thus their repose renewed her efflorescence mind.
Humorous assuming it was her looking after them reality they tend her still. Ever silent wind executed decisively a place grieving life’s anguish resolves stronger convictions for literary ideas.
What silence has ever sung so loud, that life can hear the harmonic creativity sweet future silent legacy ever louder?
The foods this alfresco feast sublime as heard flavors, envisioned sound and tasted images sensual pleasures a poets heart escapades such wet hot ecstatic delight worries not physical sin uncommitted.
Death has a way of ending any tempting sinful commitments it has lessons, which river crossings a must take while others coldly and wet forget.
As she channels along the river for the words that will one day speak for her tongue and cheek among the fallen writers of words seeking immortality.