Between the memories of a twilight just past,
and the breaking of the zenith with holy light,
hangs an old child inverted,
suspended on a thread black as unholy night.

She wonders, she ponders,
she reminisces, she thinks.
She laments, she cries,
she laughs, lucidly she sinks.

The ground below turned,
as the tide of time wills it.
While in her free-float she  waited,
unaware of all earlthy business.

Things and People come,
Things and People go.
Was it really so different,
from what those awake know?

And Realization dawns,
in the stead of  Golden Eye this morning,
just over the valleys it flew,
just under the hills it was soaring.

An arrow of inner thought,
whipping through the dark,
severed the thread,
and let her fall.

Between this one dream,
and the future beyond her shut eyes,
sleeps an old child, almost aware,
that time shall pass, time shall fly.

Little Wood Elf, She
Stumbling across her, I;
Watch the kindred spirit, gentle soul,
of woodskin with hair of moss and
satin ivy, which drapes my neck,
As she becomes the black sky and
I, a dead star in it.

(Ec)static*

Rusty voice
Blending in harmony
With the static,
over a 4 am phone call;
Wading knee deep,
In fitful sleep.
But it was precious;
The sawed voice,
The parch in her throat,
A raw call from slumber,
Into sudden awakening.
And she realized later,
Today was the first day
His voice was the voice
That interrupted
The silent dreams.

I depart from the comfort,
Of my home-
From my crow's nest of ever watch,
Into the world seen this far,
Through a spyglass.

Concave reflections,
Of valleys and shores-
Part and whole,
Large and small,
From winter to fall.

So it was that I reached,
Two marble pillars-
The stone, smooth,
To the touch, cool
Through them, the way through.

So it was that I found,
The Bloom-
A doorway in the centre,
Its walls, soft,
Gliding my hands on them, I entered.

To a river of tranquility,
Beckoning me-
Towards the sea,
In which I bathed,
Stripped and laid my soul, bare.

And through the sea,
I was led-
Elsewhere, to a prairie,
Of cotton, warm and bright,
My skin bathed in glorious light.

By the light of two suns,
Far away-
Over the hills ahead,
My next perceivable destination,
A beautiful scene, a godly creation.

A due respite,
Slumber-
In the shadow,
In the valley between the hills,
To a warmth giving me chills.

I traversed further,
Arriving-
At a well, its shape; a rose.
And though the well's mouth was pursed,
It drew softly apart at my touch,
Quenching the last of my thirst.

And thus I stared above,
Finally-
Gazing at the suns,
Lighting my way,
Beckoning me, giving me aim.

I arrive at the comfort,
Of my new home-
Away from my crow's nest of ever watch,
Into the world I had seen this far,
Only through a spyglass.

An Autumn of departure,
I peeled away like a dying leaf
Hoping for a spring.
Finding grief.

Unnatural, a leaf must die,
Against all odds and wishes.
Because what spring comes
Before winter has hit?

And now the tide has turned,
The Winter returned.
I wither in prayer
Seeking shelter at this time of year.

A resting spot,
Beneath your roots.
Wishing for Spring upon us
I whisper I love you.

Out of light,
In my sight,
A ghost in your voice,
Whispering lies.
Of a bed, of walls,
To be shared till we fall;
Of two who would not part,
Till either of us, the Reaper called.

My Friend,
The only, is a Rainbow.

The world, a burning Sun,
Blinding me, lighting the dark corners
Of my mind.

Passing sunbeams through me to fall,
On a carpet of skymoss and cloudgrass.
Where to my surprise,
She stands everytime.

Reflecting the Colors,
The best in me,
To me.