Song

It is my thoughts that colour
My soul which slips between;
Thoughts lunar and solar
And gold and sea-green
Tint the pure translucence
Of the crystal thread;
A rainbow nuisance
It runs through my head.
When I am dead, or sleeping
Without any pain,
My soul will stop creeping
Through my jeweled brain
With no brightness to dye it
None will see where
It flows clear and quiet
As a river of air;
Watering dark places
Without sparkle or sound;
Kissing dumb faces
And the dusty ground.