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

 

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