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Oct 2015
sleep strewn loveliness sink in the
silence of this evanescent twilight —

a dream's citadel superimposed
in high calligraph.
shadow's monolith dancing away
from a mutiny of light. there is a gathering
here unknown,

as the moon fathers these
intimations doubling astonishment in
all limpid signs and praised symbols.
i see now clearly,
the lighthouse belle!
i feel more evidently,
the charring of the clammy water!
i ache more freely
as the stones are put in
equipoised trial - nudely manning the
coasts of dread!

to myself alone i sing
where all fires resurrected - here now,
close to dine the coruscation
of the vertiginous star heady on its way
towards the complete blackness of god's
face trilling behind numeral starscape—

small creatures standing on the
shoulders of dreams
mounting the dwarfed ******* of
mountains and aware of the river's
errant split.

against all light are the many toppled
dreams held together into makeshift amalgam, traced in outward light is
the vestige of the unwatched now
obscenely put into picture like the wind's contrapuntal waltz against the interstices of grass feasting in their moveable glee.

o, dreams and what if they are
curtailed to the bottomless notion
of ground's innocuous stare, to crumble
underneath the feet of the giant whom
i once knelt in front of, ravished, keeping worlds together like a mothering tongue
to day-scarred kindred, these words
   thrown from the gather of clouds
      formless shapes of inimitable rain,
  
   the bells may be out of songs,
  cathedrals too, wrung out of prayers,
    oblivion yawns waiting for its
     next guest— here in the dream
  cradled in the shoulder of it
      unharmed, untouched and only
       deeply feeling for all that is
       retained, walking in the Earth.
Windsor I Guadalupe Jr
Written by
Windsor I Guadalupe Jr  Bulacan
(Bulacan)   
366
 
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