Requiem

The wind echoes a requiem that is composed by life itself.
One note is a sigh that tumbles and falls in the late afternoon sunlight.
Laughter
in a midnight cafe becomes a chorus.
In reykjavik,
the heartbeat of the sea is the composition itself.
Paint streams across a leaden sky;
an artist's canvas wrought in the simplicity of the abstract.
The soul unwraps the music it finds within itself,
and sees the poet emerge
from
a standing field of lava rocks;
Iceland;
my heart finds its reason to survive when sea and sun collide,
and tears fall like snow pellets
across my canvas.
Life is but a requiem for my soul.