3 Feb 2013

Evolution into Endless

Where does the endless journey go,
But from the foothills to the head;
Where honest lavished love does end,
And all eventual treasures awaken dead.
Into unknown channels where the darkness drinks
The full amusement of how our head may think.

Endless highways of sweet secreted dark,
Consumes the forest leaves right from the bark;
And all our great and noble plans dissolve to
Where the journey’s end absolves
The battles that we fought,
And finds such endlessness within a universal thought.
What unimagined kingdoms rise
From momentary glances in the sun,
How limitless, the ocean cries,
From where unimagined streams do run;
Where palaces of undiscovered worth,
Clamber in the mortal struggle
Of evolving from contemporary mirth
Into immortal magic’s muzzle.
Where nothing but surrender shows
The way these lizard streams may flow.

That gate beyond the silence that we never crossed;
The final ending, with all our riches lost;
In subaquatic channels where the crest does lie;
The open darkness, where horizons meet the sky.
The only door we never heard the answer for;
The other silent side upon the rocky shores;
Where ghostly hands caress the core;
And none but everything does lie
Within the undiscovered chamber,
Where lullabies express a sigh,
For Elysian fields to press an answer
On the mortal mystery we found our logic on.
Where limitless our dreams did breathe upon
The story hidden in the ink;
Where again the darkness drinks
Our sense and noble understanding
That wither in the candle’s wick,
To where the endless ocean calls,
For awakening the slumber of our threaded lies;
And leaves the leaves within the sky,
To flutter into death’s awakened eye.

Sounding of the Dawn Bugle


Amidst the wildest mountain range,
Where human sleep just plays and plays,
There are woven in archaic strings, from watery enchanted springs,
Tales of ivory and ebony, the tide of unconditioned infinity,
Where, within the echoing of sunrise bulbs, are sung
The stories of the furthest sighted star,
And mixing elements of now and very far,
They retrace our deepest streams to where our ribboned dreams may run,
Narrating ancient pathways to the origin of our sun.

Sneaking through the moonlit paths,
Where willow trees just whisper and laugh
Of narratives retold and told,
Through winding pathways of older and old;
Our vision seeps beyond the clockwork of our sleep,
To splendorous and honest nature’s work,
That binds in spells the golden threaded bark,
And corrugates ferocious elements,
As rattlesnakes of mottled skin, do flesh the elephant’s awakened stare,
And tiger claws envision in the dragon’s share
A stagger in the unintended equal eyes,
That have unlearnt conditioned ties,
And sweep into such marvelled scenes,
Where sun and moonlight balance genes;
Their scattered fragments of mosaic code,
Into the painting of embroidered gold.

The sounding of the dawn bugle,
Does sooth the balance of our cosmic studio,
And herald out the great-awakened song,
Of how a nameless space did breathe upon a throng of intermittent fibres;
And thaw the myth of animal survival.
To weave the silk in threads of ink
Where alabaster silence does drink the milk of everything,
And elements do fuse together in the harmony of balanced weather,
Out of the boiling fire and receded rain,
Of eastern winds and desert jewels,
And envisions how the earth will raise again
In connected, showered diamond fuels.