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Friday, November 8, 2013

wake of night


in the wake of night
I gather my days journey
assemble the thoughts
inspired by what my eyes
did see and the sounds
that harmonized with the sun
and winds song 

as I close my eyes
to sleep to sleep
fill them with
my hearts desires
of those who touched
my soul to keep
to dream to dream



and when I awaken
to the mornings call
of millions of gold sunrises
reflecting off the dew
my beginning
of the new day
is filled with wonderings
of my dreams in that
pot at rainbows end


I shall sit still
and in my ears
I will heed the rustling tree,
my eyes shall see the bird, the figurines
made from clouds swimming in the
azure sky and I shall feel
the wind upon my brow
so upon another wake of night
shall be readied
to sleep to sleep
to dream to dream

 

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

grain of sand


my spirit rolls around
like a tiny grain of sand
in an hour glass time piece
amidst many other grains of sand
being sieved down
tossed about uncontrolled
in tumult, tumbling closer, closer
to the vacuole, a ‘worm hole’,
caught in the eddy passing into
another plane then maybe a
deity’s hand shall grasp
the glass time piece, turn it over,
where this trip will begin again
 
 
believing what is to be true
or what is not
if not seen
even when seemingly clear
much like a grain of sand
entering from plane to plane
if there's absence of consciousness
it will matter not
and soon will be forgotten
so be here, now