Higher Sight

See for what is beauty
and stand by what is right,
Sing the songs of ancients,
and hold them your sight.

The canvas is full with color,
so silent yet so loud,
this sings to soul itself,
by the richly adorned shroud.

I’ll soar with the altospect
wind silent on my wings
and the hues of the painted sky
‘so to the spirit sings.

Sing, for the dawn is near,
See the colors through light
a brighter glow each day revealed,
from first lucem to the eye.

I saw right through the dark

I saw right through the dark,

the night so black it moved,

a shudder under cloudy sky,

a whisper in the gloom.

twas not the night that drew me near,

twas not the twisted dream,

it was a quest to higher worlds,

it was a tear in the seam.

An empty space to let light in,

a soul to fill it up,

like the shadow over limitless void,

before the Will erupts.

I saw a light through the dark,

a grey, a silvery sheen,

two orbs flickering, yet no other light,

a timeless, constant beam.

Within the ray, I saw the earth,

and all upon the land.

I saw the infinite stars above,

I saw the creator’s hand.

I saw right through the dark

when I met your eyes,

even in the the darkest night,

a soul may shed some light.

Fairy Dreams

It may have been out of place,

The intent somewhat askew,

it could have been the planet’s course

or the light from the full moon.

how would I know the dream,

Without the moments stretch,

At least in reaching for the light,

may know there is nigh to catch.

the fairy pond shimmers in silver ray,

and the ethereal mists hover low,

my hand the surface breaks,

as the mist surrounds me whole.

The suns light will break through,

in the still breath of morn,

the dove will sing the choirs song,

as such a new day is born.

the fairies dance to timed twangs,

the ladies sing and muse,

The children laugh and carry on,

The elders speak lost truth.

now at least I know for sure,

there is magic in each fairy night,

when the silver turns to gold,

in the dream before the sight.

 

Lost Dream

On the equinox I dreamt a dream,

I saw my love again,

He stared at me with angry eyes,

Yet took my hand in his.

‘What were the reasons?, he asked,

How could you wander so?

Where abouts and whattofor,

life is love, you know.

Our hands formed a spiral,

as the clutch was so entwined,

been a shadow in my memory,

Since our two hearts aligned,

I tried to tell him in my dream,

that is not like how it is,

the strings that pulled my limbs before,

now I have been rid.

But now there is a forward momentum,

and I’m lost to the pull,

the road of return is fogging up,

yet the promise is still full.

It may be many moons distant,

it may be many years,

I know the world is smaller yet,

when the soul overcomes the fears.

Thus I stirred in the morning light,

so glad to see him once more,

no longer will I shed a tear,

with hope behind closed door.

Yet in the window of the night,

in the light and darkness schemes,

I’ll not let the feeling fade away,

I’ll not forget the dreams.

 

 

 

 

Crystal

“Light is the shadow of God’s brightness, who is the light of light.”

 

There is a crystal in the center,

Behold! The glint, the shine,

it looms so high overhead,

so clear, a quality fine.

Perfect and pure the translucence,

it may be passed by unseen,

and the secrets that stream the lines

remain guised by transparency,

But, behold! It is there, in the cave!

The deep, the dark, the gloom,

whose ancient sand and craggy walls

house the ones that loom.

The sun pours down the same old way,

perhaps the light will glint,

and the present fire, whispering of

elephant stone tables, forgotten pyres,

is by the sunshine lit.

The arc of the sun is wide,

the water and air are bent,

the cave inlet also crests,

and words always echo stringent.

The cave is like a busy eye,

the crystal like a ball of light,

and a pull of the tiny star

could turn a day to night!

 

 

 

A Poet’s Dream

Describe the dream in words,

that’s what poets do,

and the dream is like a piece of art

both sprung from the mind, these two.

A world of beauty in one glance

twisted fate and perfect circumstance

a current of deep waters, a dance,`

shining, colorful, dark…

The forms within are many

yet of materials so minute;

it is a wonder there is a dance at all,

yet the tree has taken root!

It is surrounded by a pond, emerald green,

and the blue white high above,

of life is the tree, it surely appeared when

a strong will became great love.

 

Silent Scream

Stuck in my head,

like that concussed feeling,

a sting behind the eyes,

an inhalation of breath

in a freezing night

an orchestra symphony

of minor chord disharmony,

the gut’s turn before the snake strike,

the coldest hour before sunrise,

before the light breaks through the ice.

 

Nowhere and everywhere left to turn,

to God and to the knowledge of the world,

a circular current from spirit to mind,

distant points and so many lines,

like the light at the edge of the sky,

the divine structure in the ice

and liquid water, bringing forth life,

that ancient familiar spark in the eye,

a motivation forward, this forlorn sigh,

and fortuitous when these elements combine:

Life tends to thrive after fires of time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heart of Gold

A heart of gold

is a heart as hard as ice,

and solid gold melts quite quick

and the surface easily scythed.

the luster fades like the sun,

as is the way with time,

it’ll circle round and reassure,

that it is an infinite light

the glimmer is only a reflection

a manifestation of how rays align

neither a fetter nor weight to bear,

as true as the blood veins flow,

in new angles the light rays shine

radiating from heart from the soul

from the hand and from the eye

and the depths that can’t be known

 

 

Fairy Lights

Humming birds and fireflies,

gentle fairies flying light

No rain nor wind shall pull thee down

the air is yours is all around.

So as it goes, the world is neither

only within and not without

and all those lights a floating past

the same as yours, lit  by en eye

determined to fade like day into night

such as with like love, a fire most bright

and source and destination aside,

the power that moves bestows peace in the flight.

 

 

Roses

I think of you in the dark of night,

and in the fresh light of morn,

somewhere in the mist, our souls

parted ways, and we were born.

 

Rose petals climb the trusses

a soft texture on the walls,

no free will sends those roses high,

primordial growth, from the first light of time.

 

Alas, if love is like a rose,

it surely knows which way to grow,

yet trees and clouds obscure the way,

and adjacent brambles snare and sway.

 

One a morning fair, I passed the rose

and sang a sweet old tune,

and the sun is bright and the sky as blue

than when our love was in full bloom.