Soul Attitude

To awaken to a droplet that cascades into the pool of the present moment;

And many moments dreamt before in existence’s shell;

Into the honeycomb and well of harmony imagined suddenly;

Flourished, surfaced, intuited in the remembrance of the past as nothing.

Created in the thing;
An evanescent plume of eagle wings.

A pavilion diamond whose corners are carved in faces more ancient and timeless than the tracing of acknowledged forms may grasp;

As the stones lead through such forests of ancestral murmuring;

Of yearning scrolls and shores that wept the waves in folds of clairvoyant brilliance,

How eventual emotional emptiness sweeps across the sands of time into momentary castles of sun struck illuminations paved in rhyme.

The features and the structured faces, bricks and sunset spaces, pavements and timeless gazes,
Beheld within infinity’s hourglass that nothing in the sand would last;

But every grain of sand does breathe the ocean into a dance, a swirl, a motion;

A dream so deep it almost seemed awake;

But is it real, or does the dream create these hands so made of dust;

As scrawling hieroglyphs, sketched into Egyptian lanterns halls,

Across the skylines’ eye drop crawl,
Seen across a dandelions sigh,  worded in the deserts of an Arizona cacti.

It is a sense, a touch,
Where unfamiliar eyes gaze back across the mirror into the nameless lands where sight began.

When sages forge a purpose out of the stars and earth,

Dancing through Imagination’s death Kingdom;

Forging out of magma, meaning in a baby's breath

Where silence seals the circle on those forest elves,

Whose selves eclipse, in hoods and staffs of wordless wisdom;

Whose designs sweep worlds into our vision;

Conceived in caverns deeper than man could dream a sphere;
In the mosaic of all moments here,

Where the dream of death is light forever light,

And silhouettes of alphabets shine forever bright.