Saturday, October 13, 2012

October 12th

The cold and quiet clouds
Are encapsulated in a cage of magnificence.
(Weeping vines sweep shoulder to shoulder.)
The city is suspended above us
And forever is beyond us.
One day I’ll take you to the marshes
Where the birds fly free.

Note to Self

In the mirror is my worst enemy and greatest friend.
You convey so little,
Your heart is late.
You trail the blazing stars and then -
You stop.

Pale as snow and dark like a jungle,
In the sun her hair glitters like a yellow forest.
A red rose and a white lily,
(And a bright blue sky as an afterthought.)

Beauty in the greatest,
Greatest is the true.
Truth in those who love you.
Love is beautiful.

Ode to Creativity

Let your
            Take you away from your usual reality

[The stigmatism makes the trees look shrouded in peacock feathers. The charred wood speaks of beginnings.]

Your dreams
            Can only take you so far

[The orange sun emerges like a city light. It’s a globe of fire, continents of flame. But the People of the Sun are burned by ice.]

Your heart
            Can lead the way,
                        But creativity will guide you

[Many things are held sacred in this world: the voices of the feathered things, the coming of Dawn, the mysteries of the end. Do you see your imaginings among them?]

Your dreams
            Can make you stronger
                        Love will make you wiser

[The fog drips down on the sidewalks. Is this what it feels like to be suspended in a cloud? Your breathththth encapsulated in the pearly white mist?]

As the winter goes,
            Spring will come
                        Will your colors burst free?

[The ocean stretches forever, the first sustenance. You always face the east when you swing, because that is where you came from. Uncertain waves channel the essence of infinity. What would it be like to fall into them?]

Be akin to
                        Watch the wild things


The water laps very gently.
The river courses far into the forest,
Where trees rise over the banks.
Algae completely conceal the depths;
It is a light green and opaque,
Forming a floor one would wish to walk on.
The gondolas stir the aquatic foam,
Leaving a trail of black water.

It is quiet and tranquil.
The willow stands among the forest.
Birds hail the air with music.
Two paths diverging into the deep
Makes me think of that Robert Frost poem.
Vines overlap the open ceiling beams.
A large ant walks on a tendril.
Glossy purple, green and black.

A bridge overlooks a waterfall.
On the other side there are waterlilies in the distance:
Giant green plates, pink flowers.
There are reeds to my right.
A cloud of gnats swirl.
Sun pierces the forest canopy,
And bright color dances in the meadow.
Where do you want to go?