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.

Love and Light

Love is finding the light

in someone’s soul,

and strengthening their own

from the light.

The spirit casts its shadow

on that which is loved.

We are light,

a flicker, a dance,

brightest in the darkest,

A lightening strike chance.

And we are love,

as the atom in a quantum field,

Or a magnetic, falling wave,

a water crystal pure as light,

a movement in the flame.

 

Empty Dreams

The box is full yet nothing left,

cystals and strange apparati

fill the dark, clear and pristine,

A sundry of forgotten dreams,

a space best filled with dark again.

What a shame to leave the treasure,

what a time to wait for none,

for many who seek search wrong,

lest they seek the rising sun.

Some must stumble through the dark,

tread flighty, pay no fares

ice is cold and fire burns,

Shadows won’t ‘luminate tears.

When the sun doth come again,

And in this heart shed a ray of hope

a second or a days rejoice

Is quite enough to know,

infinite is found in that single grain,

The part represents the whole.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

Older Insights in Time

Oh Time, you are nothing but

a reality of my mind.

 

The fragments of existence

dance in your pages

to songs that have been sung.

Minutes and seasons

turn into ages, and eyes burn bright

in days to be won.

 

You hold our visions of light and life.

They shine forever in your midst

written in the soul’s infinite light

then read for infinites thence.

Whim

Close enough to magic,

might as well just be,

known in any state of play

or mind that is carefree.

less a thought than feeling

to know the better way,

best rely on your intuition

than another heart’s trite sway.