In harsh arid air, dry as the Gobi,
Sits an old man, weathered and worn by the sun.
Silent, before a fire that dances and jives,
Looking effortlessly beyond the eternal blue sky.
He smiles, toothless and benign,
No words escape but he passes a carved jade pipe,
Embers burning bright as I breathe heavy the orange glow,
'Paradise flowers illumination,'
So speaks the smoke that falls gently from my mouth.
I am immediately stripped of my body and my mind now soars,
Far beyond the sky and moon,
Yet present I am,
Flying on the sands of time in a desert that harbors no life.
He looks to me as a statue,
So sturdy and stoic,
yet gentle like clay he is frail and I fear nothing.
The earth shifts beneath once more,
Enveloping me in bright reds and deep magentas of a realm that buds like the blossoming spring,
Before me he is no more, yet you are in his place.
Intimately the fires rise, flickering now in your eyes as you stare with flames of passion that burn bright,
Your linens ripple and flow with ease in the whispering wind.
I lean in, reaching as you do, yet I am taken away once more.
Surging forward I fall back into the depths of a dream,
Where hazy figures whisper; oh how effortlessly do their woozy words charm,
Like the river I flow, they chant,
But know not where I lead, they urge,
Speaking in tongues of riddling madness, I am captivated.
Yet their wise words heed no response as I speak but say nothing, lifted again into a golden white oblivion that emerges from the depths of darkness. In this twisted haze you return to me, caressing my skin with silken tendrils.
We embrace in a lovelust passion, consumed by streams of blue that sway and pulse as we do.
I look into your eyes and see a universe.
What do you feel? She asks in heated breaths.
As I begin to ponder I am pulled from her arms, floating high above the clouds looking down on an ancient Earth.
I feel a beauty greener than the bamboo that grows deep in the forest, hidden in the shade of the mountains, I speak.
What is this beauty?
An air of elegance that course through my veins like a breeze through the vines,
That twists and turns like the jungle leopard who creeps through the trees,
With ebb and flow that sings a soft melody, more gentle than the calming stream,
She looks to me in silence,
I feel a beauty that is you, and you are the world. I take her hand -- and the world is beautiful.
As I utter such words my eyes grow weary and the day soon goes dark. I sleep for a thousand years but wake the next morning with the eyes of an old man peering down on me.
You lead your river's flow, he says smiling his toothless grin.