I manifest within the luminous folds of
a forgotten phrase,
The unknown story of memory’s television
maze;
The future cast within the curtains of
the sleepers stage.
I soak into the roots of charcoaled
willow trees,
To blossom as the cycle of nature’s
changing spree,
And flower as the multifoliate heart, in
which the coldest winds are free.
Intertwining the division bell that
ripples through the sea.
I swim through eggs unborn, to the masts
of the shadow’s storm,
Fading through soils of death into the restoration
of the spring’s breath.
For I’ve died a thousand times in every
eye I meet,
I swim through rivers of time to the
shores of infinity’s feet;
Falling through a golden stairwell onto
the ellipsis of an unformed guest,
Who is never fully here, nor there, but
everywhere; in the centre of the nest.
I manifest as the dreaming searcher on
the shores of now,
Asking to reveal the candle of my silent
vow,
To embrace the lightening of our final
fear,
That curtains in the mist from which we
hear
The single drop eclipsing in the opened
ocean door.
To ignite the multifoliate design, and
dissolve into the cure.
No comments:
Post a Comment