Beyond the bleeding horizon lies a yellow star,
much like the glow above one's head when three eyes open.
Within that star is an open space
where dew-dropped webs twinkle
like fractals of crystal quartz.
Streams of thought glide down silken strands of consciousness.
The yellow star sings to me;
"Seek further than you're told,
patience radiates like gold.
Your eyes have known
this sacred home
for many moons,
that laughing lune.
The wind may tell
'you know us well'
And we know you, little blue"
Perhaps a song for familiar souls, that have journeyed through a multitude of existences.
With my eyelids kissed by that yellow star's lullaby,
I hazily gaze beyond the sleepy hills, willow trees, and melting clouds
to see the eyes of my own soul smile crisp
like a poison apple in my hand,
cradled cautiously in the crevices of my palm.
The star contently fell behind the mountains,
humming to the melody of the rolling breeze,
fading into the twilight
only to become an echo in my mind.
I gave my soul to the sun that day
only to roam the black of night as an empty void
and see my true self once more
at the break of day.
Til