The Battlefield Of Honor

Blade met blade,
as sword met sword
upon the battlefield of honor
as glinting folded steel clashes
against glistening folded steel
in a battle to the death.
Anger and vengeance surge
from each opponent,
while pulsating strength flows
with perspective triumph
as blood is drawn from
each stoic combatant.
Concentration becomes centered
as focus is forced upon
the swaying movements of the sword
with the singular purpose being
to divine what the combatant's
next move will be,
in order to perry his thrust
or rise to the occasion and
take that moment to attack.
And so, in the end, as one
stands victorious over the other,
leaving naught but the
severed head of his enemy as proof,
cherry blossoms flow by in the breeze
across the blood soaked battlefield grounds
gently touching it, but never meeting it,
to bring peace to the war torn lands
and tranquility to those who walked away
with blood stained hands.
The duty of honor has been fulfilled
and the lost combatant
died an honorable death.

By The Window, She Waits

She would sit by the window draped
within a perpetually parked wheelchair.
The gloomy room surrounding her
was somber, drab, and gray,
leaving those visitors who would enter in a
dark, melancholy, and almost funereal state.
But even as family and friends trickled in,
forced to transverse the
vacuous and oppressive lackluster room,
in order to visit, upon occasion,
her in her dingy little hovel,
she does not see them,
for she is not cognizant of them,
for her listless eyes are vacant,
and her pallid complected face expressionless.
So even as gentle hands touch hers
in a sweet tentative gesture of love,
her face remains stoic, blank and indifferent,
for she is uncomprehending within
the hollow barren oblivion of her mind,
devoid of emotions, memories, and feelings
of love, passion, remembrance, and friendship.
So there she sits starring blankly out
into the cloudy overcast ocean of sky
as rain trickles streams of water
down the panes of glass,
as though heaven weeps the tears
she can no longer shed,
and the stagnant room around her
slowly becomes her
sepulcher of solemn desolation,
alone.

Until the day, when the beeping stops,
and the drum of the heart beats no more,
and she rises upon infinite wings eternal,
to be carried to a place where
music sounds and love flows forth
and the heavens open up to rejoice the coming,
of a reborn spirit of angelic beauty,
newly made whole,
laying cradled in the resplendence
of the gentle loving arms
of a Goddess Mother, beyond compare.

The Onieric Muse Of Sominal Wisdom

Upon the darkening road we walk,
in the shaded greenery of evening,
as shadows blossom and bloom
to cover the world in a
blanket of serene slumber
serenaded by the chirping crickets,
the babbling brooks, and an
angel's tender lullaby sung
upon the gentle breeze calling....
calling forth sominal moments
from the telestic unconscious mind
where mysteries are unraveled
and wisdom is bound within
the Oneiric Muse's muted whisperings
to be reborn, to be reawakened
into the thread of divine inspiration
and seen with refined clarity,
in the light of a new day's dawning Sun.

What sophianic thoughts will
find their way from the selenic world
where our spirits walk in slumber's tide,
into the realm of the now,
in the moment of today,
into this singular reality bound in illusion
and entangled in the lattice work of
the Tapestry of Life and the Web of Infinity,
in our nobilary quest to rediscover
the truths which lay veiled
beyond the curtain of our own demise.

What gifts do we bring back to this plain,
as our spirits return from journeys
embarked upon in realms yet unknown to us?
What treasures?
What epiphanies?
Only those who seek to know the truth,
will ever discover them from within.
Seek and you shall find it,
through patience, knowledge and understanding.
And the wisdom of truth will be revealed,
through time's immortal infinite hands.
Seek.

Eve Of Dusk

It is the eve of dusk as
twilight twinkles a myriad of stars
to tickle the sun into slumber's illuminating bed,
while star formed creatures dance and
and cloud born creations prance
in an eternal struggle for control
over the ethereal apex of
heaven's incandescent sky.
Unnoticed, as they go about their play,
a third seeks control as a breeze blows on its way,
shifting and pushing the clouds in their sway,
sending them hither, and sending them astray,
with cries of anger, they billow on in their flight,
hopelessly lost in their struggling plight
And now with only the glitter of stars to combat,
the wind changes shift to swoosh and to flow,
but the glimmering twinkle stays stationary,
refusing to let go of the black stain of night
that it claims as its gilded home.
And in crushing defeat,
the wind follows the clouds,
relinquishing the realm of regal refinement,
to the victorious twinkle of twilights sprinkle
of glorious stars that abound in the sky,
until time's quicksand drops its last grain,
and the sun returns with the clouds and the rain,
to rule the zenith of heavenly grace,
while slumbering stars dream of the morrow's race.

Twilight Eclipse Of The Celestial Star

The day is a quiet one, beautiful,
as blue jays chirp happily
in their brightly colored trees
and build their nests in fevered expectation
of growing numbers of progeny,
and hungry felines slowly stalk
their prey in silent hunt,
while drooling in constrained anticipation
of a succulent morsel of flesh within their grasp.
But within a single moment,
all grows eerily quiet
within the domestic setting
of natural harmonic bliss.

The clear azure sky dims
as shadows caress the landscape,
enshrouding it in a cloak of ghostly calm,
and the vibrant solar orb,
slowly becomes overshadowed
within the twilight eclipse of the moon,
staining the unblemished satin sky crimson,
as the heavens weep,
becoming tear-stained with
grotesque smears of ethereal blood.

Darkness encroaches upon the land
as the world holds a collective breath
to await the coming dispersion
of the spectral haze of the solar eclipse.
The breeze is still and silent,
within the tense impregnated moments
of dim scarlet obscurity and stagnation.
And the world lays in impotent constraint,
as slowly, ever so slowly,
the light returns and
the heavens open up into a
deep shade of violet and
blossom once more into
rich flawless sapphire tones.
And as the celestial star of luminary light
shines down once more across the realm,
the world gasps and once more
can take slow even sips of purified air,
uncontaminated and free to
flow upon the random tidal currents
of the breeze's momentary whims.
And life returns to its normal pace.

Spiraling Nexus Of Spiritual Awakening

A diaphanous breeze beckoning,
sheer and gossamer wind flowing
within a swirling vortex of
purifying atmospheric currents,
like the fluttering of delicate
translucent insect wings
which tickle the flesh and
caress it gently upon the nap.
As, within the inner self,
life-force phantom of essence,
waterspouts of melodious tones
climb to the zenith of transcendence
and whirlpools of serene preeminence
slowly churn in votive supplication,
divinely inspiring the benevolent heart
to open and blossom
upon the ethereal maelstrom
of seraphic, harmonious serenity
which vibrates in duclet congruence
of emotional contentment
and internal quietude,
at the apex of sacred heavenly existence,
preordained within the promise of serendipity,
to rouse the sanctity of angelic consciousness
to walk within the light of
incandescent compassion,
as a glorious illuminating messenger
of transcending tranquility within
the nexus of spiritual awakening.

A World Of Tomorrow's Promise

A black sphere floats above
the cloudless midday sky,
blocking out the luminescent rays
of the heavenly celestial star,
which hangs upon the
backdrop of noon,
valiantly shining for the benefit
of all who stand within its vicinity.
The darkened orb casts
malignant shadows upon the ground,
forcing the world into a
shroud of haze and confusion.
Suddenly, the sphere shatters,
like a glass bottle thrown to the cement,
into a million pieces of darkness
which fall to Earth in a rain of hail
to embed themselves within
the hearts of every living soul.
And then as suddenly as
the darkness overtook the sun,
light returns to shape the day,
and all go about their business,
while within each lurks the promise
of a seed of darkness blooming
into a blossom of incandescent beauty,
to shape a world of tomorrow's promise
within the divine inspiration of
transcending enlightenment.

A Moment Bound Within Forever

Awaken to the rising sun,
in all of the glorious radiance of the morn,
and delight within its warm embrace while
standing in the place where the day is born.

Glimpse the tidal currents which
streak billowing clouds across the sky,
and kiss the ocean's supple flesh
like a gentle breeze upon a field of rye.

Luxuriate in the delicate tickle,
of soft emerald blades of grass
and the tender caress of earthen soil
as time halts and does not seem to pass.

Paint a portrait of elements refined,
to burn a memory upon your soul,
of a single moment of peaceful surrender
and the serenity that it does truly extol.

For this time will never come again,
as it flows within the distant past,
as a single moment of beauty remembered,
a moment bound within forever, always to last.

When Death Comes Courting

When Death comes courting, what do you say?
'I'm sorry Mr. Reaper, but not today?
I have to wash my hair,
and dry it with utmost care.
But please do come again tomorrow,
and I will ease your weary sorrow.'

And what if Death comes calling, once more?
What do you say to him as you stare at him through your door?
'I'm sorry Mr. Reaper, but I simply haven't the time,
I must wash my tub for it is full of grime.
Then I must wash and fold my cloths,
and then I must water my flowers in rows and rows.
So come again tomorrow and we shall sit for a spell.
And I promise you then, you will feel well.'

And what do you say, when he comes again,
and wishes to speak to you about the death of men?
'I'm sorry Mr. Reaper, but you can not stay,
for I wish to live and enjoy the day.
I can not be your shoulder to weep on,
so take your scythe and please be gone.'

And what if Death comes again,
but not to court or call you friend?
What if he comes in scorn, at last,
to take you with him into his cast?
What do you say, when you have reaped what you have sewn,
causing your own death to force you to atone?
Do you weep with regret for what might have been,
if you had simply opened the door to a sorrow filled friend?
Or do you heap blame upon him alone,
wishing it were he who stood in shadow and stone?

So remember next when Death comes to call,
to open the door and let down your wall,
and share through empathy his sorrow and pain,
so you are assured in today, that you will remain.

The Open Door To A Silent World

A door creaks open, slowly,
with no fingertips to cajole it forward,
nor the hint of a breeze to coax its progress.
Its weight upon its hinges forces
it to cry out in protest, until finally,
it reaches its desired destination,
against a blank wall of stark contrast
to the stained grainy panels of the door.

The world is silent,
as a shadow is cast long
upon the threshold of the door.
But there is no one there.
The world has stilled in
its pleasure seeking,
and frozen in its stifling mundane.

Leaves, which at that moment,
were careening toward the ground,
in one final assault,
are halted midstream,
to curl and twirl no more
upon the glaze of zephyr streams.

Rivers which babble happily
and whisper sweet nothings to the breeze,
pause in the cessation of
now frozen ripples cresting and
riverbeds twirling in jubilant dance.

Birds, which but a moment ago,
chirped gaily a trill and warbling song,
now silent in their feather beds,
with nary a tweet nor a tune
upon their stoic beaks to rejoice the morn.

Children's play and gayest laughter,
falling into torpid state,
where feet in motion, stand stationary,
unable to crunch the
newly fallen autumn leaves,
and once smiling faces with rosy cheeks,
are petrified and immobile.

The sun is locked within its gate,
penned beyond its mighty glare.
So to the gentle moon awaits,
beneath a blanket of light,
for a time, which will never come,
to shed away the remnants of the day,
and rise upon a bed of midnight silk,
in all of its stately glory.

And as the shadow flows across
the threshold of the door frame,
it dissipates and dissolves into
the ether of immortal time.

And for the world at large,
now frozen and subdued,
life begins to sparkle anew,
as the pleasure seeking
and stifling mundane resume,
for but a single moment has past,
within the span of time eternal,
as a single soul transverses the gate
between the living and the dead,
to embark upon a wondrously mysterious journey,
of the unknown which lays ahead.

Foundation Of A Promise

Stand not upon the backs
of angels promises,
for they will fall to dust,
and turn to ash.
Steel yourself not
with the pledges of others,
dearest friends though
they may be,
for the foundations
upon which you built,
steadied by the hands
of friends united,
shall crumble into rubble,
and turn to ash.
Build instead first
upon the truth of yourself,
self respect,
self reliance,
self esteem,
self confidence,
and self worth.
For once you have discovered
the truth bound within your heart,
and come to accept it as gospel,
you will find,
not the bitter taste of ash
in your mouth,
filling your nostrils
and burning your lungs.
Instead you shall find,
sweet succulent nectar's caress,
as you stand upon
your own two feet
to build a foundation
of indestructible strength.
And when you stand upon
the foundation you have built,
you will discover that
you no longer need to be carried,
that you need no
promises of dust,
or pledges of rubble,
for you are complete,
assured in your own self worth.
And others will draw closer to you,
all the more for your own
foundation of promise.

Winged Spector Of A Twilight Goddess

Darkness rises upon the wings of twilight,
as dusk settles the fiery god of day light
into his transcending bed of cosmic slumber,
while angels weep diamond tears of star dust
across the heavenly zenith of silken black.
Shadows seep across the blazing landscape,
drenching new budding life in the shroud
of sominal quietude's serene embrace,
while churning clouds of charren gray
creep across the stainless ink of the night sky
setting it awash within the gently flowing
tidal currents of a stormy maelstrom,
born from the ethereal specter of a twilight goddess,
who basks within the enchanted void of dark expanse
and sheds her celestial robes asunder,
to stroke the land in her liquid caress
of vibrant blessing and illuminating renewal.
And as dreams flow into daylight twinkle
briskly rising above the haze of night,
the sun god stands to retake
his ascending throne of incandescent rays,
and reign, with tender smile upon his face,
as he gazes upon his earthly realm renewed,
and glimpses the hand of his beloved bride,
as it slips back into the nestling warmth
of her blackened cocoon of cosmic slumber,
to be reborn anew once more,
within the gentle encirclement of twilight time.

Ancient Celestial Fires Which Burn Eternal

Tis a day like no other,
from sand laden distant shores and
high atop snow encrusted mountain peeks,
as ancient celestial fires burn eternal,
casting a warm glow unto the heavens
and cascading shadows down upon the earth
And from within the ever blossoming cosmic flame,
she rises upon gossamer wings
drenched in glittering golden sunlight,
to shimmer atop the backdrop of azure blue satin sky.
She is reborn anew out of a chrysalis inferno,
to reclaim the infinite horizon
bound within the ebony embrace of lunar twilight.
And with her inevitable ascension
to her gilded throne of enchanted solar wonderment,
she beckons to one and all,
with divinely wrought inspiration,
to rise from slumbers gentle caress,
and meet, with joyous abandon,
the coming of a new day's dawn.

Dark Lady Of The Moonlight Fair

Dark maiden immortal,
dark lady fair,
of comely beauty and celestial starlit hair,
looming up out of the encroaching night,
to sashay forth upon strawberry glazed moonlight,
to twirl and to dance,
to sway and to prance,
where shadows collide with shafts of glistening light,
upon a craggy barren moonscape of sheer delight.
An illuminating spirit, the breath of life,
a harbinger of death, and the sorrows of strife,
refined in effulgence and sumptuous splendor
to tantalize and inspire in succulent grandeur.
A delicate jewel of intimate intrigue,
a haloed angel of sublime deed,
gently gliding forth upon a glittering array
of gilded kaleidoscopes bound in Eden's miraculous way.
She hovers upon the sparkle of moonbeam tinsel,
as she raises her voice in the song of the ancient minstrel
to call forth kindred of enchanted moonlight fair,
calling to moon drenched fairies and moon kissed pixies
pirouetting through the air,
to share in her wonder and joyous elation,
to frolic and cavort in her playland of lunar illumination.
As solar orb becomes moonstruck in rhapsodizing twilight eclipse,
and joining the dance are tiny moonshine imps,
harmony and balance are restored to the fray,
as enchanted ethereal creatures go about their play,
enshrouded within the tapestry of the supernal flux of the mind,
bound within the dreamscape of heavenly paradise enshrined.

A Gift Of The Fey: A Samhain Tribute

Down inside the hidden grove,
upon the mossy green,
just beyond the misty vale,
Samhain night sets an eerie scene,
of blazing torches and bonfires burning,
to alight a path upon the ground,
while moonbeams fall in gentle sloping
and banshees moan and circle round.

The first bewitching specter
to rise up from betwixt the shade
is an amber flame aflutter,
a fiery fairy of summer made,
dressed in saffron, turquoise, and ginger,
with rosy cheeks and ardent face,
rising above the ash and cinder,
she is passion's blaze which has come to this place.

The second enchanting figure
to fly out of the haze,
while gentle breezes speak in whisper,
a buoyant rainbow pixie soars into the maze,
dressed in blue, pink, green and white,
with golden ringlets and azure sight,
she is the sublime ethereal zephyr,
with ancient blessings yet to offer.

Rising out of loch reflection,
a tempest sprite of introspection,
surges forth into the fray,
third to settle into her stay.
Dressed in olive, aqua, and sand,
with billowing wings of silken dew,
she is the force of rebirth's hand,
gifted with the power to renew.

Fourth and final to come is she,
a woodland elf of great stature be,
stepping out of timber's shadow,
to enter into the haunted meadow.
She trudges forth in earthen brown,
while her earth worn boots make not a sound.
She is the force which stalks the night,
until she emerges triumphant in the firelight.

And there they meet upon the knoll,
ancient entities of mythology's extol,
to cavort and conjure in Samhain's cast,
incantations buried deep within the past,
spells and blessings to renew the land,
rising up from each creature's hand,
to alight the moon in kaleidoscope wonder,
and beckon the clouds once cast asunder,
and harken forth upon a new dawning sun,
the promise of which has already begun,
rebirth, regrowth, and renewal reinstated
and to the land of winter, spring is now fated.

So remember well this Samhain night,
as you blow out the candles and turn out the light,
for there you will find the hidden path that you seek,
as a gift of the fey and a gift of the meek.

Maiden Of The Hidden Vale

She stood upon the craggy ground,
amidst the dew and sprites at play,
down within the hidden vale,
safe among her fairy fey.

And there she stood in stoic wonder,
a statuesque maiden amongst the wee,
a beauty of brilliant radiance,
an enchanting jewel of sylphic majesty.

With moonlit tresses of golden hue,
falling gently to her dainty feet,
and eyes of azure splendor beholding
the panorama where earth and sky meet.

Blessed with wings of gossamer silk,
laced with threads of amber dew
which stretch across the landscape specter,
into a horizon darkening to midnight blue.

She is cloaked in a mist of angel's tears,
a gentle haze of weeping white,
which bears the tale of sadness born,
of seeing her ethereal sight.

She stands quiet in her secret vale,
safe amongst her fairy fey,
awaiting the time that is yet to come,
a return to the hidden way,
so that she my step into the glow,
and dance within the sun lit day,
and share with her beloved friends,
the call of heaven's gentle sway.

Minstral Of Men's Desires

There is a lithe and sylphic beauty,
unknown to mortal men,
who languishes in languid repose,
along the sea shore's line,
Her dulcet songs of sorrow and desire,
her siren call of old,
cast a spell across the sea,
for when her lilting voice
rises in seductive tune,
no man bound unto the sea,
is beyond her ethereal reach,
nor beyond her transcending touch.
For within her vast territorial expanse,
she is the minstrel of men's desires.
Hear her call,
hear her plea,
and come to her defense,
and she will offer up in blessing
ripened fruits and nectars wild,
to the souls that are in her command.
A lady of enchantment,
mistress of the tides,
she is a siren of the moon,
come to distract and deceive
your lust filled eyes.

Autumn Leaves Aflame

The autumn leaves are changing,
to hues of red, orange and gold,
while the smell of woodbine lingers,
strong and deliciously bold.

The autumn leaves are falling,
into a state of dormant deterioration,
as they fall to pieces and await,
in the constant flux of disintegration.

And as they lie fallow, forsaken,
in a fossilized state of dilapidation,
upon a barren land of perdition,
born of ruinous desolation.

They recede and decay in
melancholy prostration,
as they await their fate,
of complete destruction.

When suddenly in random abandon,
an ember of trepidation,
lays amongst the abandoned,
resounding in its cry of sullen desperation.

As it ebbs adrift upon the flow
of solitary separation,
and seeks the forlorn fallen,
to reach the mantle of revitalization.

And bursts into flames
of inferno's ruination,
and bear down upon despondency,
in the form of annihilation.

The promise of the blaze,
of brimstone and deprecation,
cast down upon the land,
that of eclipse and obscuration.

The fires burn deep,
without any form of control,
leaving in its wake a barren land
bound to a sorrow filled toll.

Promise Me The Wind

Do not promise me the wind,
unless you can capture the gossamer breeze
as it flows through your hands.
Do not promise me the moon,
unless you can snatch it from its divine cradle
and offer it up upon a silver platter
drenched in moonbeams..
Do not promise me heaven,
unless you can stand upon the mount of Olympus,
as king of heaven's sublime domain.
Do not promise me tomorrow,
for tomorrow may never come.
Promise me not the world,
promise me not today.
Only....give your solemn vow
and promise me....the moment of now.
For one moment, an eternity,
is gift enough for me,
to know that your heart beats
in unison with mine.
Promise me one moment in time,
where you are mine, and no other,
living but a heartbeat for me alone,
breathing in the sultry evening air for me alone,
and seeing only me,
between the space of a second.
Promise me, my love,
and that will be enough.
For in the space of a single moment,
I will know the wind's gentle caress,
glory in the soft glow of moonbeams,
and stand upon the zenith of Heaven,
by your side.
And none of those shall compare
to a momentary truth found next to you.

Upon A Winter Solstice Moon

An ancient woodland of Caledonian descent,
with groves of trees bathed in the divine incandescent -
Ash, Aspen, Birch and Alder,
Holly, Yew, Hazel, and Juniper,
Rowan, Willow, Hawthorn, and Elder,
bedecked in stars and shiny ornament,
wreathed in winter moonbeam adornment,
to celebrate upon a Winter Solstice,
the passing of the season's gentle kiss,
and draw back the sun from time immortal,
a cult of the glen-folk stepping through the portal,
while spirits of nature, divine minstrants of old,
gingerly await fate's rebirth to unfold,
to be reborn upon choruses of pagan decree,
and rise once more in vigour, vibrant and free,
through supplicatory invocation,
and elemental incantation,
a reclamation of nature abounding,
to the tender song of Mother Earth resounding.

So upon this Winter Solstice Moon,
which will come in a time, oh so soon,
through grove and glen, and loch and dale,
across the ancient wooded vale,
listen well for the chorus cry,
which takes up wing and starts to fly,
across a reality born of the external,
to bring back the ancient ways of the eternal.

Ember Embrace Of Innocence

A beloved dream once held secure,
nestled within a gentle heart, oh so pure,
of childish hopes and silly things,
stirring the imagination as it take up wings,
rising in flight upon a cloud of pixie dust,
to reach the heavens upon a strong windy gust.

Ethereal,
Imperial,
Essentially divine,
Mythical,
Magical,
in eternal design.

Dissolving away upon a stone altar,
as youth recedes and begins to falter,
begetting a mind of truth, logic and reason,
to bring forth the heart of a life in new season,
older, wiser, and pure no more,
lacking the ability to rise upon wings and soar.

Grounded in deepest introspection,
seeking the dream of purest reflection,
of simpler times and innocent things,
when magic and mystery inspired the heart to sing.

And within the ashes, upon an altar laid bare,
sewn deep within the heart of blackened soot with care,
burns brightly the embers of a dream once held dear,
simmering with hope to ebb away the fear.

And from ashes to embers, and embers to flame,
youthful inspiration bursts forth, wild and untamed,
to push back the veil upon the veins of the heart,
and return to innocence, the place where we all start.

So seek those dreams once lost and forlorn,
to fill up the hole in the heart that is torn,
between truthful logic and innocence's face,
to lay nestled warmly in ember's embrace.

You Called Me Back

In times gone by,
you called me back,
from tempest shores of sinking sand.
With Rowan wreathed hands outstretched
you brought me back,
from the shadowlands
of tepid pools and shallow graves,
where darkness churns into its depths.
And where I stood for an eternity, it seemed,
hallow and silent.
Until your haunting whisper called,
drawing me back,
into the light,
where you stand in gleaming wonder.

You called me back,
and for you,
my thanks ~
for doing what no other could do,
for being my saving grace.

The Dusky Horizon

He stands at the crossroads,
in a single moment of decision,
turning his head left to see
a smooth, well worn path
which has been tread upon
many times before.

He turns his head to the right
only to behold a treacherous road,
littered with obstacle and boundary alike,
overgrown with the weeds
of struggle and strife.

He turns his face ahead,
to face the straight on path,
and there he sees,
in his moment of decision,
the way he must journey forward.
For there, directly in front of him,
stands the dusky horizon,
where heaven touches earth,
and the two intertwine into one.

He smiles,
and with one last glance
to where he had come from,
he rises upon wings
of feathery silken white,
and flies forward
to meet the dusk,
to meet the horizon,
to meet his future.

Captivation Of A Dream

You have captivated me,
in silent dreams,
your whisper,
your call,
leave me,
and I am restless,
laying beneath a coverlet of silk,
abandoned,
left to succumb,
to the succulent torment
of a translucent dream
of sublime anguish.

Your eyes behold me,
enfolding me in their wrath,
a warmth so tender,
a touch so gentle,
an embrace so sweet,
imprisoned in your arms,
an agony of heaven's fury,
and I am set aflame,
awash in your eyes,
for they hold me captive,
a prisoner of your heart.
Such delicious pain,
nestled within you.

But when I awake,
and the dream is done,
flying away upon the
wings of my consciousness,
I feel empty, once more,
restless with wanting,
for something,
I can not recall,
for someone,
I can not see,
for a forbidden dream,
I can not touch.

Portal Of The Transcending Heart

Deep within the heart,
there is a door which
can be unlocked unto a world
of awakening enlightenment.
But who holds the key to that door?
Who can unlock what has been bound,
for so very long?
Is it a soul mate?
Is it a friend?
Or is it you?
Could it be that you hold the key,
to opening a portal to
heaven's illuminating essence,
beyond which any single person
could offer up with a golden key?
You alone can guide your heart,
to the place where the soul
shall rise upon wings
of incandescent light,
and soar beyond the
celestial apex of the horizon.
It must come from within you, alone,
as a seed of transformation
planted and nurtured,
to blossom into a heart array
of pure perfection bound
within a shell of beautiful
imperfection and illusion.
And only through your journey of life,
will it strengthen and grow,
into the soul of enlightenment,
which you have always been.
Only then will find the door unbarred,
and the way clear for you to tread upon.
Only then,
and by your hand alone,
will you awaken,
to what you have been all along.
Only then.

Ride The Wind

Ride the wind,
upon gentle wings,
beautiful feathers of billowy white,
which flutter from behind,
as a mark of transformation,
allowing the one to transcend,
above the mist and clouds,
into the incandescent rays
of eternity's encirclement.

Ride the moon tide,
upon churning waves,
which sprinkle and purify
in a cascade of sacred salt,
so that the one may rise
up to the ocean's level,
and reach beyond the horizon's mark,
to touch the iridescent twinkle
of starlight wonderment.

Embrace tomorrow's rise,
as the dawn of what is yet to come,
a journey which begins
a moment from now,
of things which lay in wait
for the one's singular touch,
a future conceived upon yesterday's dreams,
born in today's lessons of understanding,
raised within the fortitude of time,
strengthened by the will of resolve,
and finally,
coming to fruition,
upon the boundlessness of the morrow,
a dream of enchantment,
the odyssey of a dream.

Come Walk With Me

Come walk with me upon fertile ground,
filled with blooming flowers,
and the scents of heavenly spring,
with trees as shade,
to cool and refresh,
and mask the glare of the blazing sun.

Come walk with me by waters edge,
where liquid finite calls you to play,
splashing around in jubilant laughter,
a heartfelt smile of contentment upon your lips.

In this place of dreams together,
there need not be sorrow nor pain,
nor any other worry to tarnish its light.
So instead, my dearest friend,
come walk with me and let us play.

Angel's Farewell

She stood upon the rocky precipice,
seraphic wings spread wide at the ready,
peering down into the fathomless chasm,
in the hopes of catching a
single glimpse of her prey.
She had laid in wait,
ever patient and ever cautious,
for an eternity it seemed,
until finally she caught sight of him.
In the great expanse of distance
which laid between them,
she could hear the distant echo of his laugh,
tingling a faded song of joy,
for her ears alone to partake of.
And with a smile of knowing satisfaction,
she rose upon her angelic wings,
and began to soar upward,
in order to meet the horizon,
and all of the celestial wonders,
which lay just beyond the imagination.

Immortal Beloved

My dearest immortal beloved,
with you I have walked secure,
through the thresholds of time,
of pain and of doubt,
with love's celestial design
woven into my heart
and braided throughout my soul,
for you are the single incandescent twilight beauty,
which stands before me upon the apex of heaven,
calling me back to you, evermore,
through the eternal tapestry of fate's decree,
as your friend,
your lover,
your kindred,
your twin flame.
A call which has brought us forth into today,
before the boundlessness of heaven
and the heart of Mother Earth,
to forever more intertwine
our lives,
our hearts,
and our souls into one.
Reach with me, my most cherished beloved,
and we will touch the stars together at twilight,
as you once did for me
to beckon my heart forth,
for truly,
within the infinite expanse of this plain and beyond,
I love you, eternally.

Upon This Night

Come to me upon this night,
within a moment time has forgotten,
to alight my path upon a road
filled with the stillness of the
night's encroaching shadows,
a place which lays beyond
the gentle drumming of
a single heartbeat held secure,
a place where the twinkle of stars
dance in an endless shimmering cascade.

Come to me upon this night,
where there is nothing beyond
the sway of your heart and mine, intertwined.
Encircle me into your arms,
enrapture me in your embrace,
as you weave my very essence into your soul,
for there you are bound within mine,
and I am captivated,
thrown into a world which
lays just beyond the threshold,
of time's outstretching tendrils.

Come to me upon this night,
and bathe within the serene waters
of a single moment
born within my eyes,
even if only upon the
rising tides of a dream,
and lead me in a dance
of splendid enchantment
wrapped within your arms' tender embrace,
for here, in this place,
I belong to no other but you.