sweet as our lips,
summer boy,

dream of blue stone,
as the night flows like a tide,

burgeoning like a drifting
cloud,

you are my boy of dream,
blossomed from water
and moon,  from crystal light -

i long for you
summer boy,

as the last stars vanish,
blunted like the hills.

Out blossoms the fractal of endless colors..
Inmost to the outmost reach of the oblivion and creation thoughts..
The convolution gyre where your thought first formed..
A helix of fragments that turn into a memory..
A memory where I remember you from a dream..

on the eve of our creation.. we are to notify and observe the makers..  in route in the night sky we view the creator below..  
in their mega cities.. in their modest homes..  how the creator lived before they were the creator..  

on acts of creation they are abound unknownly..


the creators have made themselves without knowing what they are..
and always they arrive at a point where they conceive us..  

the creators allow us to view them in their worse state of living..  where war is still livid in their life away from being the creators..

where the creators live and die..

until they learn there is no dying..

only creation..

the creators allow us to watch us being created.. they allow the moment to us.. where we were made. when we were made.. the idea.  the answer.  the creation.. its who we are because of the creators..

mass has ended....

the hawthorn lays down its ghosts, thick
with dulling pink; the stream quivers,

its blue shadows sunken, gleaming,
at low ebb, breathing like a mirror

in the sun. beneath the trees it
is dream-like, cool, dark and

magical, the leaves little harbours
of breeze, voiceless, white as bone.

The universe had always been under a vast ocean..
Only it was some how the oceans that were here..
Past the abyss of thoughts..
Past the dreams of light..
It was a fathomless chasm of darkness into sub-atomic light..
Even in dream distant it could not be reached..
Only in understanding could it be found..
Profound, yawning,  and downreaching understanding..
Never were we looking up..
It was a Phantasm of beyond..
A castle in the air..
Conceiving the reverie to a beyond that was below..
Under the oceans here..
Below and below..