more like a fish settling
upon a vector stream,
a warm vein tendril touching your senses.
Leading your swim’s inhale
a scented stream amidst fathoms liquid soothing a response.
fins fanning, glistening scales reflecting sun shards
into rays piercing from above.
You notice a garden of coral,
colorfully undulating with their tendrils,
a motion beckoning you to swim –
swim closer till your scales rub against their amber current.
Upon opening your eyes
to find your a mermaid bubbling from your nostrils percolate up –
up till you hear popping, they break the surface
waves glistening into a pattern.
This instills a smile widening across your face.
Your settling onto an ancient seabed of emerald jade,
weathered with timelessness.
A school of squid point their eyes,
all turn simultaneously,
Your sigh reaches their thoughts.
they secrete a purple cloud inking pattern you remember.
You notice your chest increasing in size,
you breath this ink and taste sweetness kept secret forever.
Your hair remembers this current
each spiral embraces your shoulders.
You pick up a hollow conch,
place this upon your ear,
listening with the heartbeat of the ocean.
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.
Have you slowed your legs into slow stride,
here in the coals of nights, wet fragrance eases the skeleton, remembering like the tree inside your body
evening sauntering quietly down lingering into your senses.
It’s the night which calls this quiet into your bones,
it is the breeze lifting an unseen birds wing if you listen,
it is this displacement that leaves a ripple in a moment.
it is the nock unlocking knocking antlers of bucks
under the ornament of moon,
the trees in our bodies filled with tourmaline acorns.
It is the tree in my body, adores any sense that touches skin,
It is the tree that holds the stars infatuated within,
it’s the distance between heart beats,
remembering with the tree inside your body.
When shadows feign upon grounds once ruled by the sun ,new moon recalls with higher stars what always remains of the suns glow. This quarter season waits, stories are told, starry are these skies of winter. Seen are the breaths escaping bodies to the planets
This quarter season beauty coming from within winter, evening tone, a vespertine array of sentient stars remember, sun climes beyond alabaster sky hidden, a ritual unstoppable, takes time away, an internal strobe flickering moments, still pictures in the album of your mind on a wheel turning, this sol system like an eddy of water turning slowly drawn round and round beside the shore of this galactic river.
Earth alway remembers. Winters forgotten the warmth autumn paints,
leaves settle unseen,
palette back into earth,
their summer colours memory of spring.
Lower cool sun inks an umber maze perforated from a trees canopy,
shadows stretching from a morning west,
animating pattern,then a slow spilling to where it began.
Rhythmic tilt her body listens, turning forever into this horizon,
so slowly another day winters into night.
Then a memory of the stars at night encroach, evening beckons constellations dance round the pole star.
There is a turning,
a familiar within motion that takes one into night-dream,
like watching cream slowly spooned into a cup of black coffee.
this web of sky spun by the dust of stars, this circle,
Slow spin of earth, full season her body tilts, its a memory of watching sun and moon trade places that makes one count quarters of the winters moon that shines higher.
Linear time, like a chrysalis, holds the body until the rhythm of nature beckons, emerging into collective consciousness .
What gives the spiritual meaning, is inspiring another through being . That place when the magicians table is in a balance. A collage of consciousness with cyclically found objects . Patterns of colouration expressive of anima. A reflective inhalation igniting your mind, body and heart. This gallery of living, finding objects that speak, exploring until that final piece brought to your eye fits. With all the other shapes, like a puzzle, mercurial, nurtured to fulfill your interpretation of gift, of life; a transmutation. I can reflect to my earliest memory the magical meetings that gave intent a harmonic ripple. A tingling of balance, that place between, when you know you disappear into an object you are painting or a shape you are carving, or an alphabet you are arranging into a verse that captures the sense of being part of this earthy existence.
That living trance
Awaking from dream inside an opening eye, this place between, floating upon the sea of sleep, yet not released from the cocoon of sleep. Immediate echo of an etherial song bird, pronouncing a sunlight justly. Listened to this before, this prescience of thought catches up, gathering the decades which this bird remembered, holding a songs memory, a clarity of notes piercing dawn. For the sunrise is ancient, just a stream of moments, this is another melody timeless.
Raindrops sing like a tide does coming ashore, listen just to their descending chorus. For every drop of rain once was in your body, each half of infinity rained together gave many lifetimes to remember you have been here before and before and before. Here you listen to held memories on the song of rain, a spell timeless, together with the red beak of memory and the subtle chime of rainfall. For this dawn is ancient, awash of moments inside the melody of timelessness.
Taste your lovers tear, awakened by the etherial song bird, be carried to a salty ocean shore when placed to your lips. Each drop down the cheek holds a capsule of memory, a microcosm of lifetimes.
Stories told that once spiraled glass vials were crafted to hold the salty tears of happiness and pools of rainwater held exotic fishes that would pollinate the flowers that bent near the surface. Where the sunrise is ancient and the etherial bird sings of another stream of moments.
4 – 6 – 2014