Talking to Thomas

Is the crimson leaf
That dies in orange autumn
Born again
On the same branch
In which it dwelled from
In summers yellow heat

Does eternal nature die
In the bosom of white winter
Only to be reborn
In the gentle arms
Of earths green spring

Does natures ego trap me
To the material earth
Even though my Soul
Prepares my thoughts
Of subconscious awareness
As I engage
With my higher self

My immortal song
Sings eternally
In the material dimension
But resides between the spheres
Of the worlds soul
And my devine mind

As I walk the backwards path
Of solitary enlightenment
I will not be tied
To the material any longer
Only the immaterial
Pure positive dimension
Can capture my Immortal soul