I stood on the wings of tomorrow
sang my song to the wind
and heard it playing on the radio
the very next day

The scripts of time,
Can only be written.
By the Scholars of wise.

They who document.
They who reveal,
The past and future.
To those of real.

Still the same,
No thought of you passed by since morning,
Maybe a little,
But i tend to not bother about it.

Tomorrow,
We'll be seeing each other,
Even if we did not,
I still can feel the energy you released,
And i'm afraid,
That i'll fall for you,
All over again.

Let just wait and see,
How this continues.

My Meridians

We are:
a great circle upon the earth,
passing through the poles,
the East and West of us,
unique pole points of each us.

At any given point
on the earth's surface.
the half of such a circle includes,
two poles,
a singular line connecting
just we two.

This great circle of the celestial sphere,
passing through its calculus points,
fixed, but in motion,
you, the observer,
me, as composer,
we meet at an intersection,
a zenith peaked
a poem,
our greatest achievement.

And when we meet,
at a point of our
highest development,
great prosperity shared,
in the body's rivulets,
a vital energy flows,
when two create,
a write writ, read, and beloved.

This then,
My Meridians!

Noon and midnight,
the period of our greatest prosperity,
without them, without you,
how could I be culled, found,
this meridian, this our direct line,
transferring a tangible taste to both our
Lips.


I need
My Meridians!
6:03am

song of the seagull
free of the anchor
wind sailing

hangover of dreams
mingle and extend
the waking hours

I am glad your secret is shining
the smiling happy outside-
your soul free and dancing
on invisible music played-
playing ringing bluebells-
a wood full of songs here
now in the heartland of minds-
eye seeing inside the outside
the smiling happy souls shrine