In a vast courtyard
surrounded by columned
portico ,
on one side a tall cylinder
made from the finest
Egyptian glass .
☆
There in was the sensual
dark
blue liquid essence of his
soul .
Blueprint of a challenged
path
and where one was never
like another .
☆
Ahead a towering vulture
six feet high ,
with wingspan over
thirteen feet ,
atop a high golden plinth
of light ,
one last witness of Nature
before beyond .
☆
Till finally the Alter of Fire
where
tiny lizards licked and
stripped his skin .
Numbers , lines , stars and
a red light became
blue ,
drenching him in dread
and dearth .
☆
Where the caressing velvet
blackness
met newly dead souls on
the shores of Acheron ,
Abandon all hope ye who
enter here ,
the grey gloomy path of
torment .
☆
Now frozen and outside of
Time ,
a boundless lake of violet
light ,
wherefrom a giant dolphin's
head
is birthed a new galaxy of
pure thought .
☆
The perfect sword of
surrender
in Tree of Life and mirrored
reflection ,
became The Eagle , high
above the mesa
and saw where the futures
had been sown .
☆
Then he heard her voice
" It is the Initiation of
Destiny ! "
And so fulfilling the sacred
contract
he sat down now , in
prescence of the Great Scribe .

The moon crashes
into ocean night spilling
iridescence o'er me,
o'er half-opened eyes.
Bathed in the soft glow
of my friend holding me
beneath dappled shadows of
a whispering tree, I wake
from infinite dream to return
a blossoming flower—
A light has come to me now
in this midnight hour.

Tree of Life stood at the
centre
of an intersection of
wheels .
He sat to one side in
blue light ,
while above him flew the
Spirit of the Shadow
and an enormous bird
made of fire .
☆
The High Priestess was
there besides ,
and to her left , the Queen
of Swords
danced dervish , slicing
the air .
On the wall behind her ,
an array of knives
and she slept every night
covered in flowers .
☆
Niaids moved swiftly
through swollen streams ,
past a luminescent green
magic grove .
Forest faeries in ceremonial
dress ,
watched as three devotees
of different psychic realms ,
communed with their
ancestors and Nature .
☆
One was adorned with
hibiscus ,
another had come laden
with dreams ,
a third one was dancing in
a soft perfumed mist ,
while all around hundreds
of animals and birds ,
began to sing with one voice
on the wind .

Reminiscing old, long-lost memories
that we once lived for,
is like pressing on bruises
that are not yet healed.

The bittersweet pain of our reverie,
seeks to mingle
with the weary, blurred lines
of the so-called 'peace'
we've come to accept.

Maybe it’s not the silence
or the yearning for what's long gone,
but the desire to at least,
for once, feel something
in this slow-burning,
hope-filled fever dream.

if
my wishes
were stars
the sky
would be bright,
like daytime a magnificent
thing;
granted wishes
fall down
like shooting stars,
ergo
the vault of heaven
would be still,
immovable