Way of Light

Things are not what they seem,
says the one caught in the dream,
these players from a different cast,
waltz the stage disguised in masks,
and there is one who tells a tale
of the watching waiting clockwork elves,
not in the stone nor river banks
in the crumbling walls, the city street,
the cracked grey pavement under their feet,
let the tale, the truth be told,
the eye that sees, the one that beholds,
is the same as the reflection in the eye,
the actor, the player of the disguise,
beyond that there is a shadow cast,
for the light surely travels fast,
like shadows, clockwork, like the night,
let the tales, and truth be told,
the dark travels fast as the light unfolds.

Bitter Wind

A barren field, which way to turn,
The paths all the same are worn,
The dusty earth, the pallid sky,
the heavy winds, a forlorn sigh.

The waters move the planet well,
Yet so very laden is the swell,
the rush, the current be so strong
Mountains are sand before too long.

What to do when all is gone,
Perhaps listen to the winds sad song,
Or the birds that carry the ages tune,
They comfort the spirits so alone.

Oh, Chagrin, the bitter cold wind,
The dust is painful in my eye,
Let the ages fall beneath me,
Let the waters run til dry.

World Clock

Always looking towards the clock,

so much time, and even more thought,

to fill the chasm, limitless void,

the eye, the ear, the mind have toiled,

the spirit reaches when the feet must rest,

and the mind remembers which of all were best,

the feeling of a place drawn across time,

the power in hand when motivations align,

the inspired song when the muses take flight,

the remorse when the light grows dim in the night,

the delight when the stars fall and fade,

and the fiery sun sweeps the brisk morning away.

in one direction every thing must fall,

the rhythm is surely without, withal

and whoever set the motions made man

a wandering ‘low sun soon as he began.