The Island Cottage

 

I can feel a tree waiving its hand

Before the large balcony of a cottage,

Facing the sea in a lonely island.

I can feel a chilling breeze

And the shrouding mist

From a mountain ridge.

A shoreline bathing in foaming waves

Keeps knocking my heart in rising raves.

I can feel the long cherished drizzling

In the reddish hue of a fiery evening.

I can feel the silvery drops of rain

Splashing and Dancing over my face

To dissolve the signs of all my pain.

I can feel the breaking dawn

With the chirping birds

In a summer morn;

As I look at the hospital lawn

In the dwindling light of the dying Sun.

I can see the island cottage

That I have never been.

I can feel the sandy shore

And the yellow wild flowers

That keep ushering me in…

In the twinkling tie

If I live or I die...