Sweet to your lips , the nectar of the stars for we are in our bodies because of earthy souls that gaze into a reflective pool higher than the veil of day to pierce to the stars , till evening rest upon our weary bones and we take these stars as sweet nectar filling in what modern distraction has eroded away .
Train horn deeply awakes this evening,
this mind theaters like a picture book,
inside pictures roll slowly reeling, turn like a toy kaleidoscope.
Bare tones root tendrils deep, while an evening is
rising to the audience of stars.
There is a creamy smoothness around.
along side my moon shadow stirs,
silently and kindred is love, this dark aroma of night.
I saw pictures curve from a bend of a page,
inside frozen for a second and captured forever,
there the jaguar caught pacing inside a cage.
Three pelicans remembered by the shore
waiting for a California rain.
It is this moonlight stillness waxing shadow,
Opening a pouch, seeing contents spill from fingertips, to earth thankful that each flake glistens,
We are touched by the light of the moon.
A breath of smoke drifts always upward,
like the mirror of a rock wiggling through the shallow water finding bottom.
Somewhere between a surface reflecting.
And now a memory of the train horn
stretching like this milky moonlight,
under a dome of stars.
It was in the sky, always above. Seems so that the beauty moves across the sky so far away. Even some times my eyes don’t see the galactic fireflies we on earth call comets. Then when one shows up there and is predicted, it pulls on the memories of another far away place. A time when no one living today was there. so we have images written about. Images etched on new tapestries which today someone figured out the squiggly object on the wall rug is a comet. The behind the Great Wall, Chinese Seers collided a parchment or glazed a vase of jade.
It was in the skies last night , way far away like human understanding, a kindred love of sharing and someone far away awoke on a hill top or in a cubicle in a skyscraper remembering this dream.
2 – 11 – 17
Slight of sky shifted the stars once again,
seems there is a gesture being drawn across this western sky.
Once the only light were the stars
so we changed with the moon and dressed for the sun.
Stars pleasure a mystery senses
then place our aura back inside our body.
Take some timelessness with an evening that wishes us to gaze.
This voluptuous myth.
alive inside our tide of being.
Child of our sky, take a few winks.
Seems there’s a drawing across this evening sky.
this shimmering pitch of evening the stars again waver
Seems there is a gesture being drawn across this western sky
Once the only light were the stars
we changed with the moon,
dressed for the sun.
Warm inside, following a breath approaching twilight
Cold outside, shimmering beckons a warmth away
This attire which stars pleasure mysteriously
Senses placed back inside your body
take timelessness, an evening wishing a gaze
this voluptuous myth, alive inside our tide of being
Once we changed with the moon,
our sky take many winks dressed for the sun,
Seems there is a drawing across twinkling sky.
Imagine this earth before any living today can speak of.
It is the elements that have always been.
Mountains eroding slowly to the beach as grains of sand.
Imagine this earth as it was before.
When the air has an unrealized fragrance .
When birds awoke to the same sun, nightingales sang lullabies under a moonlit sky.
Waves washed ashore seeding another beachhead with treasures from a distant land.
The stars in the skies were farther.
Life moved with this rhythm becoming with the dark then waking with light reaching into the blue .
And here I sit writing a thought of spirit not a philosophy.
There were eclipses seen by the tall grasses, they seeded back into their earth, their meadow sent a collective wave of colour to an evening of stars.
Then somewhere a lake reflecting a world speaks of the rain~ memory of being taken inside by the tongue quenching a thirst then purring through emerald eyes under a canopy sky, full of stars.
Sighing, the lake reflects another sentient piece of earth skyward.
And here, we are in wonder of what remains encoded.
In our bodies, as memories, finding another that understands, gifting a puzzle piece into your palms.
This picture familiar so clear mercurial and alive. Goosebumps rise when we sigh into a starry night .
Stillness became a dream rendered, twined, soft as the silk cocoon of memories, evocative. Lingers as lucid pulses within a dream, peeling the crisp outside apart from an inside wet warmness emerging moth like from the chrysalis of sleep. Vast here souls learn to last, tide cast upon this starry shore after sunlight becomes nights breath reaching to the stars.
Fireflies don’t know they exist till after the night sparkles.
As the dawn peeled back the skin of dreams, kindness of a memory whispers feline names that graced this life, memories of each cat gazing at the moon dreaming of a saucer of cream. Siamese took me into the tide of a swirling night, it took me forever to catch the moment of static tide, caught in the between before being pulled into the ocean of dream.
Once again another night fills the sky starry, sometimes overcast yet a knowing the gaze of constellations still spill beckoning to all under a sky that dreams earth infinitely. It is the firefly pulling close to my breath as I gaze into the shore pooling with stars , this capsule of night is swallowed whole, entering as a jaguar quenching a lucid dream in which fireflies know they exist under a canopy of stars.
5 – 12 – 15
Sweet to your lips,
the nectar of the stars
for we are in our bodies because of earthy souls that gaze into a reflective pool higher than the veil of day to pierce to the stars, till evening rest upon our weary bones and take these stars as sweet nectar filling in what modern distraction has eroded away.
Every moment beneath a sheltering tree,
swaying count inside a breeze that comes from a faraway canopy.
a stream has a beginning branching forth roiling under aquamarine skies.
Eyes close to an inward gusty sense once forgotten,
while the face side of dream cools. as right as the tepid breeze touches the other side of knowing .
Share a clue to the scent of longing like a sky without a moon for awhile,
show yourself with the turning of earth.
Moth come fly in my light.
Your wings pulse with the shimmering stars.
Pick this reflection of a star from your wings and place it inside your thought
then sip the nectar of my love.