Recurring

the scent of heather carries
on a waft of purple passion
it stirs a sense of longing
and pulls on ragged seams

it swells like rivers flooding
on the plains of sad destruction
a recalling of unsettled
in the restless part of me

where it comes from i can’t tell you
though it’s older than the green hills
and it whips up waves of white surf
of a past that’s long forgotten

of another time i lived in
that’s a blur of hazy daisies
that thrived in random spaces
of the vaguest memories

without clarity of faces
or a map of long lost places
it plays on my emotions
yes it harbours deep emotions

that crash in dreams of slumber
that wash upon a shore line
that ebb and flow forever
refusing to be freed