Quick lobbed missiles Over distant horizons. And clouds like battle-torn mountains. An old war rages… Light versus dark…
I awoke with a stirring in my soul: To delve beneath the surface of my skin, To drink of the hidden fount of Ecstasy, To Sprout again from The roots of my being. My lips will be as the leaves lapping up the Naked summer air.
When my feet like roots, Ask of me in The dew’d grass. When The birds upon the air a playful tune, And everywhere and every leaf a golden gleam: There and there will My heart sing in the affirmative.
I Would I more the hours… The sun in all its brilliance: A doomed ship dipping behind the trees. II And tho Twilight Casts its aspersions upon my eyes…no, Not my heart.
I have wandered along the margins, of White hot flashes of madness, of Brief truths spoken From the heavens; And Of a Rumbling Poetry.
It was a vivid dream, but not in the sense of bright, lurid things. Events were all too ordinary. From a school at the edge of a cliff: a stern voice, hiding warmth. Yelling down at the barren, dusty path. A well-meaning task. But there wayward we…a bloom of wild, stubborn hearts…
There were always these pressing concerns, the unrelenting now, now. But there was the strength of our bond. So I held my head down. But time becomes as the sea. I look up…and how to get back to you now. Now.
On the wet roads, the cars to and fro. The rain’s pitter-patter. The romance of it all. An ode to the assuaging hands of time. Though still from this distance the dim riots of my heart.