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When All Fails

Journal Entry: Thu Mar 21, 2013, 8:26 AM
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When All Fails

And it’s always on to the next adventure.
Random leaves flicker roads of desolate
trod and cried
over, fallen quicksand depths demanding
for survival.
Frozen wings, sudden sparkling cold
damp unforgiven. Bent below, tramps
expecting handouts,
bankers expecting deeds,
women expecting hollow forcomings.
There is no easy fantasy. Tales of fates and
lie on quantum desperation, haunted nights.
Winter always lurks on Spring’s horizon.
Keep moving; keep life singing, gyrating for
The road long saturated with evil, rise above.
Learn, grieve, abandon.
Envision a grander hope, shining spire

~poem by our cofounder libramoon :iconlibramoon:

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libramoon Featured By Owner Aug 8, 2014

find a quiet place
let your mind drift and wander
fall into infinite awareness
take a leisurely stroll through
what feels good, right, beautiful

Who would you be, what would you do,
if time and space were infinite?
Beyond stratosphere,
infinite bliss,
the whole of the real.
Aching for stars, planets, infinite,
silent assent that means all is promise.
Daring to explore pleasure, infinite awareness.
Leisurely share what feels genial, good, light.
Infinite muse lit lanterns take wing,
illuminate eternity.
Cells disperse out from infinite regression,
demand expanding territory,
redefinition, delineation, demarcation.
All the places of possibility
open to my scrying eyes.
I am the universe of time and space
awaiting birth.
Your eyes draw me,
they fill in the lines
with infinite perspective.
Ripples quietly express
infinitely regressing
first cause
last effect.

Infinite, eternal, these are words,
maps to definitions, not what is.
Creation never ends, never begins
again, not repetition but reflection.
In the infinite recesses of a sigh
trembling hearts create a pact of solitude,
invent machinations of separation,
journey through despair.
Infinite regression,
significant omens,
legends and runes.
There is no guide, no authority,
none but me, infinitely mirrored.
What will become of all these "I"s
staring through, demanding
retribution, stark, cold justice?
We have created our own reality
in the laws and theories we make describe
the segment of the infinite realities
which we have found accessible to sense and reason.
libramoon Featured By Owner Aug 1, 2014
Loosening from light, long hazy days ebb golden.
Corn fields and buzz.
Early harvesters bless bread of Summer lore.
Cold is still a legend, a remembered song.
Soon enough we'll be lulled,
huddled by ritual lamps for communal warmth.
Tonight, as twilight melts into familiar
constellations migrating like wandering tribes,
early harvest feeds celebration.
Regal old seer, wizard, holy prophet
rambles over rocky hillocks
toward noble Sun,
beseeches, sings, ululates.
Opening passage, veils, gates,
free to rove, frolic over ages.
A lonely infant cries awakening,
learning to be human.
Wondrous fantasies.
Disappointing realities.
I build my gingerbread castle.
Burn off bits as needed
in consolation.
Deep in the woods of childhood
every tree, every lizard, toad,
bramble of berries,
glamorous tragedies,
apparitions, adventure, romance.
I peer from the shadows of my own star.
Here I have purpose, lyric bard and audience.
Restorative rays hover behind, shine grace.
Swift arc of flame imagines space
out, far from grim, grey dawn
upon dawn.
Listen for enchanting pipes
of Pan to follow, drawn on
painted sky.
What was lost may be re-crafted.
Daring quests begun anew.
In a world of lads and lasses
hale and strong, brave and true.
Joined in conjure,
raise our glasses.
Do as we must do.
libramoon Featured By Owner Jul 26, 2014
Jung Day
The spell breaks
dangling chrysalis; abrupt
crash, tangle, adumbration.
Shaken, dazed, awareness stirs.
Anxious to return to slumber,
swift fade of so compelling prophecy.
The world is damp, dingy, 
filled with discomforts.
Slipped in, potent phantasms,
dashing bits of myth and whimsy.
Softened landing 
allows memory to absorb shock and awe.
Bitter wars, forces of survival,
flagged by colors 
transcendent and bright.
July 26…
Jung @ Heart, EV12 ~ July 2008 ~
libramoon Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2014
Summer Again
... movin' into summer
Wind plays in cloud formation.
Drift into deep elation.
Sun rise
blossoms to a
rhythmic peak
sending out, sending out, sending out
radiant vibration
reflected through summer skies.
New esprit conjures a story.
Fantasy and careless
fling into tall grass,
fruit full trees, languid leaves.
Ebullient sunshine warms
melting melodies.
The tale unwinds in brightly
colored ribbons,
high jinxed gypsy comedies
of breezy, dimpled romance.
In silken perfumes bathed,
flagrantly scandalous.
Deign o dainty smile.
Laughter bubbles out,
bursts.  Minstrel raucous flames
fill summer eves'
glistening fairy light
Tell a rollicking tale,
we demand of the piper.
We have paid all the long
seasons of darkness.
It is time to reap an early harvest
of rapture dancing to dawn.
libramoon Featured By Owner Jun 12, 2014

The many faces of illusive Moon
reflect starlight in her artful glide,
entrance the sky.
My mortal eyes want to believe
gleaming quests, brave truths, romantic rhymes.
Tell me, hoary elders,
rejuvenated for your fling
in sacred moonlight,
swaying from your ivied castles
to mystic mountain
legendary glades,
tell me why I should give credence
to magic codes of
spells and sacrifice.
Is the wisdom of the ages
so constrained?
My species may be blind to
naked eternity,
but we mutate,
find and define
new ways to see.
Fixed space is far too limiting
for me.
Dear Sister Moon, separate entity
from birth, entwined destiny
with Mother Earth,
patterns re-cycling reveal
what we regard to be real
is but reflection.
Face to face to face, fluid
to change.
libramoon Featured By Owner May 31, 2014
Fish Tale
I didn't know the fish would die
flapping on sun-warmed metal.
Peacefully domestic afternoon.
Children discover death
and other worlds.
Sitting by the well
to draw inspiration.
Spinning yarn, weaving words.
Dusty work.  Flakes of skin
embed the fabric.
Struggling through childhood,
the tales get twisted.
Little boys & little girls
separate language.
We think we know our place,
our destinies,
from the games we're given,
the words we've learned to imitate,
rhymes, reasons, rituals.
Imbibing passion body to body,
we awaken rules of blame.
The woman tempts.
The hero conquers.
The sad boy desires a
self-fulfilling fantasy,
stomping upon his heart to
start the flow of real blood,
real rage.
Out of water, out of earth,
out of air,
flopping upon some inert surface
the tale mechanistically repeats.
What world can we discover
nurturing life?
bird songs
I've been through this before,
pre-dawn morning
birds chirping, infiltrate my airspace,
awake when I should be long oblivious.
Good girls dream of princes,
subliminal desire to be slain
by love piercing enshrined virtue.
Gold hued birds in crystal cages
incant witchery for food --
hair of newt, spleen of worm; smoky
syllables induce pleasure.
Warm hearts beat together, no bond
of pact
or sentiment.
Lore is explicit; no crime to commit.
Vexed, inconvenienced by the regular
comings and goings of
the natural world.
Birds of a feather exchange their
social pleasantries.
It is I who should be sleeping,
conjuring brave new worlds;
ambient noise translated into
neoteric lullabies.
Rambling through fields of daisies in spring.
Hoping to find a new feeling.
Coming to terms with what each moment brings.
I'm making a bargain with time.
Not getting tired of running around.
But wanting to know where I'm going.
Trying to measure my meaning in sound.
Trying to keep it in rhyme.
Hoping to answer a call to my heart.
Quest for passionate focus.
Adrenalin pushing, I'm ready to start.
Making a bargain with time.
FAE OPERA (excerpt)
A joyous encounter with life
A joyous encounter called my life
I've swung from trees in tropical climes
And swum the seas of paradise
And learned to breathe upon the earth
You've got to see me; you've got to listen
to these wonders that I've learned
Traveling, traveling a hard-stoned road
Working my legs, my back, carrying my load
Journeying for countless years
Seeking out the sea of tears
Eyes bound behind innocent’s lace veil
I break my trail
(As in my mind my song unwinds my tale)
A marvelous secret, a hidden treasure trove
While unicorns play harpsichord
within a blossomed grove
A newborn child with something wild that
plays in rainbowed eyes
Has been declared of druid laird
Born to hypnotize
Been borne to hypnotize
Sing lullabies
Reward all the heathen with sleep
And dreaming dreams as such who waken
Find their very core earthshaken
Thus made to believe in possibilities
They set their sites, reshaping all reality
And of them they've begotten me.
Sound the magic pipes of Pan
All who hear may understand
The fluid waif who walks the land
Spawn of Diana's fling
With the clove-foot forest king
Vibrate to music, music, music
In every cell of living fluid
'Tis alright to be a druid
Of forest borne to roam through future lands
Touch me, touch me, touch me, touch me
Become my hands.
Floating, wandering, restless shades
Call me to respond.
I rode a mountain faire
Picked daisies for my hair
Learned to know the name of every weed
I dwelt the night alone
In a crevice made of stone
And never thought of what I next would need
I dreamt of castles bold
And the language of the Olde
And struggled to bring my dreams alive
And whistled as I rode
The songs I'd oft been told
At parties seen
In waking dream
Another place and time
Another tune, another rhyme
And I'd sit beside my campfire
And gaze into the flames
And yearn of learning other places,
Atune to other names
Traveling over other lands,
Seeking secrets, other plans
Or just remembering another song
For the secret of each soul is in its song.
Blazing all around
Miles from bare ground
Twisting twig upon an aery sea.
Luminescent way
Whatcha gonna say
Songbird, whistle your wisdom to me.
A maid of golden wings
In lullabying sings
Of white sails racing in the wind.
No two are e're the same
Of the tales she can name
Oh, nightingale -- take me in!
Blazing all around
Miles from bare ground
Journeying upon a vessel rare
Silently I sing
To hold remembering
Magic castles in the air.
libramoon Featured By Owner May 25, 2014

Study War No More
What lesson can be applied?
When imperialist troops crash down upon a people's pride?
When might as right meets the instinct to survive?
When Midas greed lashes out to destroy?
We've been here before, o my brethren, o my children --
repeating fouled lessons poured into our thirsty minds,
pushing back the horror before our eyes with blinding rage
forged into weapons by mortal foes
who hide in plain sight.
The only thing I know --
The lesson repeating agony in all our souls,
haunted by the pleading eyes and bloody hearts
of slaughtered sacrifices to malignant gods --
There is something vital here to learn.
peaceful moment
Like a warm evening on the beach, all woozy from sunshine.
Tingle of sea breeze, that ocean scent of the wild.
As the sun recedes, cooling, refreshing, yet still a lazy summer eve.
Oh that luscious feeling, that overflow of quiet release.
In and out of sleepy reverie, gently washing through pools, reservoirs
of elation.
Like a sweet warm breath caressing.
We give what we can; we take what we need.
Marching, in orderly fashion.
Or beatific saunter to a sacred beat.
The horizon shifts through daily duties, nightly prayers.
We take what we can. We give.
Without edict, without rational equation,
we give each outward breath, and take in what is given.
Like happy inspiration, song springs from memory to lip,
moves the fortunate mind to acute ecstasy of recognition.
Moments meant to linger, to haunt as devoted ghostly guardian.
Draped in ethereal glow of grace's reward.
Ambient iridescent spirits play joyfully,
ubiquitous harmonies.
Like the words we tell ourselves to bring us peace.
Support Our Troops
What if they gave a war
and nobody came?
What if our ethos gave up
on targets to blame?
March of disorders;
unstable bonds break down,
crush frightened nestlings
to dust.
We meant to serve our nation.
We meant to save liberty, defend
threatened treasure, staunch
guards against disaster.
We meant to honor sacrifice, deference of
our fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers
for the respected life:
family, God, country
and a wholesome emolument of pleasure.
How could we consent, become executors
of horror so intense
as to reverberate, capture our
remaining consciousness?
Who is advanced?
Who left in pieces that never heal?
God is on the battle field
not as commanding general nor
emboldening mascot,
as witness
and gentle minister
of tragic rites
to shattered soldiers.
Logic of Evolution
Successful progenitors
survive to sow seed
by force or persuasion
or hiding off screen
or banding together
that more may succeed,
and upgrade conditions,
enhance the breed.
But, for such teams to work well
we must
learn to respect, honor, and trust;
expect to contribute and take and share,
accept the caring for and care.
In community varied seeds are sown.
Thus is a thriving future grown.
Or, sibling rankling infests, turns
on neighbors as scorn.
Barriers proliferate,
preparations for war.
Who is emboldened by
destruction and blood,
blasting civilizations
back into mud?
Are these principled people
filled with kindness and joy?
Those who can create, build;
the lacking destroy.
Guns, bombs, cruel words,
contempt, angry sneers,
promotion of pain,
preying on fears,
paying us naught but
unneeded tears
and advancement of certain
unsavory careers.
We can reject violent lies,
realize the prize.
Here! before our eyes.
Simple. Easy. Free.
Expect, accept, embrace
the abundance
of Peace.
Firelight Story
Oh my children,
not so very long ago,
probably in many places still,
we lived in communities
in which we had pride and dignity.
Small enough for everyone to
know your name.
Large enough to provide diverse
resource of skills
and personalities.
Caring, squabbling, challenging
as family.
Able to leap beyond petty animosities
and find a way when a way
must be found.
Entrenched in lessons of former days,
preparation for breaking future ground.
Not just a pretty myth
like heroic champions who protect,
subtract our sins.
Community, adaptive growth within
a solid sphere,
a social network of mutual support,
often said to be what we are here for.
(I hear you sneer; you who tear down magic,
hope, shared trust.)
It could be, community,
our prayed for cure (balancing salvation)
to the follies of humanity's
deadly love
of war.
Body Language
Teach Peace
Ecstatic dancing in the classroom
Body wisdom
reaches through neural pathways,
regenerates whole to whole,
touches soul to soul
I feel you in my mind, my spine.
Feel me dancing,
elongating muscles
extending connections.
libramoon Featured By Owner May 19, 2014
)mad magicks( Emerging Visions XX…
libramoon Featured By Owner Apr 22, 2014
It's really a simple story. Beings find planet. Beings treat planet badly. Planet goes about her business.
Beings start to realize that they need planet, and had best learn to make friends rather than futilely keeping up enmity.
Gaea: A Ritual Performance
layers of imagery, music, tribal drums, futuristic dreams
Gaea was there, in the beginning. Gaea was all. Gaea was wise.
How could we not have seen, in the blindness of pride, of avarice,
of service pledged to false gods?
The journey was long.
The journey was harsh.
The journey was lonely.
Asleep in a box with wilderness dreams.
Or awake on the watch, wondering what was to come.
Thus it was those false gods bespake us:
Out of the cold vastness of desolate space,
out of base fear over years seeped in to overtake us,
out of a need to deem our fate Someone else's scheme,
out of a need to believe all would be well for our kind.
Our world was dying.
We did what we could to survive.
Survival we find
an appropriate end
to any means.
Survival will give us
the time we need
to find a better way
to survive.
The bravest of us,
the proudest of us,
the meanest of us,
would not allow us to die.
We took off in our ship with the barest of plans
to find another land
where our kind could live ...
hybrid children evolved
from refugees
fleeing a hostile star,
Skygods and Earth Mother of ancient lore.
When will we relinquish hubris, ruinous hatred,
accept Gaea as partner and home?
Build strength of unity so all may thrive?
The land, when we found her was warm and inviting.
We felt safe, supported, encouraged to grow.
We ate of her fruit, fish, herds.
We built with her trees, stone and clay.
We drank from her beautiful streams
which we soiled with our waste.
Gaea was saviour and womb.
We repaid her with rape.
We didn't understand,
thought her merely land,
thought ourselves masters from afar.
Gaea sent storms to bring us to our senses, wild winds and seas.
Gaea tried to shake us off: Earthquakes, Floods, Famine, Plagues
sending us scattering into hiding,
intermingling with her primates, Gaea's ape children.
Without question or shame, we murdered what we could not steal.
Without honor or remorse, we laid waste to our host,
to our adopted home,
then cursed her for not giving more.
By accident or design, chimera adapting to nature’s marketplace,
creating stories to redefine our origins from outer space.
We lied to our halfling children, denigrated their Gaean kin,
twisted their virtues into a false concept we called "sin."
What Gaea did to us? Cruel, evil, in need of the whip.
We seal over her bounty
into mad parody of Mother Ship.
Unforgiving of the mess of living, the miracles of life.
In ignorant pride we gave ourselves law to decide
propriety over fate,
in our minds
mother love
into a mirror of hate.
Frozen in fear and rage, children swept out in the storm,
trapped in a self-made cage we had hoped to protect us from harm.
Gaea, we cry, why do you treat us so angrily?
What will it take for us to wake up and see it is we who are wrong?
To hear and be aware of Gaea's song singing in our blood?
To learn the cycles, the seasons,
the reasons for fire, wind and flood?
To redefine our race,
to find out that our place is here among our Gaean kin?
The telling of new tale must begin.
Gaea opens to sunshine to ease our agitation.
Easy winds, breezy gush of summer rain.
Feeding the greedy young grains,
growing along the plains, the flowers of the storm.
Feeding the beasts of the field,
celebrating the cycle, as all is revealed.
Love is the web,
craftily spun by great mother spider,
Gaea's familiar,
weaving magestic grace
no longer concealed. It was never our place
to control, nor others' to steal.
Gaea creates in intricate arrangements,
feeding us all of us all, a transformative stew.
So much energy wasted; painful lies to find our way through.
New beliefs, guiding stories to provide for, enthuse
children, reaching out to become and be free,
embrace our destin,
as Gaea's beloved.
Arising in the circle, giving voice to release pain --
grateful to Gaea's grace, dancing in her cleansing rain,
we sing, rejoice, united:
It would be so nice (paradise)
You and I
Floating in the sunlight
Ready to break free
To be
Exactly who we are
Gifting Gaea EV22
Sacred Earth, EV#7
Earth Angels
That boorish arrogance.
Deaf to wisdom, portrayed in
ominous myth, faery lore.
Slay the goose;
destroy the whales.
Uproot untold trees
bearing fruits that may have
saved us staggering pain.
Crucial for well-being
microbes, photosynthesis,
processes ignored, misunderstood.
Focus expended on ephemeral
opinion, petty greeds and rivalries,
diatribes on evil and good.
Realities we have yet to account to,
fall, collateral damage
to insolent bravado.
When will we ever let go,
rethink this mad master plan,
relinquish need to command?
libramoon Featured By Owner Apr 19, 2014
420 eve

420 fledglings escape pie and fly
Silent night, pensive night.
Carefully managing intrepid flight,
serial soaring heightened insight.
Self-sabotage may be a right.
So is a paradigm shift, excitement of
quantum array;
a quick turn through reality's rift
into a fountain of play.
Happy day, glorious day.
Why would we have it some other way?
Revise decorations -- more brilliant, more gay!
Dialogs weave beyond yay or nay.
Reveling in destiny's space/time/what may.
Escape Velocity
RRRRRunning--Spinning--  rising to fly, to reach
and conquer the sky, the rooftops, the treetops,
outside the city crowds.
To elevate,
escape gravity.
Ascend beyond all those petty groundling woes and fears.
Climb past the clouds,
among stars and moonbeams.
Catching sight of 
those celestial omens foretold by fantasy.
Catching hold of tickly, teasing, zooming ecstasy.
Catching up to steep snow peaks.  Peering in lofty windows.
Prancing gaily so many feet above fields and roads,
glancing below -- can't catch me
not you dour, sour, 
glum-faced cons down on the street.
Learning to fly, to soar, to race up high
where I can see for miles, 
and miles recede.
Learning to say no to ordinary normality
and break free.
Learning to say yes to magic, and make magic me.
unlike anything before.
Learning to break out of bounds and take in more
Ain't nobody gonna tell me I can't fly.
Smoke and Mirrors
 The calmness of night
with no one
but me
and the cat and the music.
Sentient spirits
out of reach, out of time
feel me yearn
for soft waves, perfumed
a secret moonlit ride.
Gentle, waft breezes
carry, caress calloused cares
into quiescence.
Loving seas, cradling essence.
Paradise state of mind.
Some are born to battle,
to die of sadness on rocky
foreign terrain.
If I could give them ease,
could discover
words and gestures
that bind us all
in happy equilibrium,
I would gladly reach out
so far my arms might break.
I would sing above the fray,
I would open the walls
that hold nirvana at bay.
Would you exercise escape?
Would you swim into bliss,
drink the nectar of precious contentment?
Would you be so elated
to play
swept away
in potent beatitude?
Or defiantly never
look past the sign:
No Weapons Allowed
April 20, 2008
Caught up in the whirl as the world evolves
We weave by the light of the moon.
A fabric of fancy, sunbeams, pansies, mist.
A trail of bluebirds embroider your tresses.
A veil of gossamer softens your eyes.
A breeze of belief to embellish your breath.
Dressed for the fete in the finest of jewels
Alive to excitement, shining with love
Wrapped warm in a floating cape of wishes fulfilling
 * *
Reality enrobed in symbols.
Where would we be outside our trance?
Ecstatic in sunrise.
Open to the rainbow rays.
Whirling, life within the dance.
Each cell, each system, synchronized.
Vibrating to celestial tones.
Each jagged lonely fragment
joyfully bonded, tethered with love.
Sent on to chance.
    Listen then, and hear anew
    A melody so swift and free
    It's memory can carry you
    Floating on a magic sea
    To the inner facings of your soul.
    Look, and feel with lover's sight
    the polished crystal jewels of time
    that catch you in your secret night
    and send you tumbling down the mire,
    through vortex lambent rabbit hole.
    Expand the seconds of eternity.
    Find your way unwinding.
Joint sessions
Joint sessions
In a hovel-hole basement haven.
We keep the faith and
And it was told . . .
How the everlasting presence
still isn't very old.
How the Diamond got her ring
How the matchgirl got her king
How we all got everything
And how everything got sold.
Reeds bending in the wind.
A haunting sentimental song.
Breeze saunters by.
The neon letters "PEACE" light up the air.
A poem in pictures and sound.
Rather like a spell, you know.
Those dawning tendrils
sneaking through my windowshade.
But it's much too early to be rising.
So I'll dally in enchanted romance
without recalling
I've no one to wake to
beyond the dawn.
Reaching to the stars,
tarry in eternity:
This is all.
Soldiers marching in a desert,
remember not their daily cares.
Remember only endless marching.
Caught suspended, unawares.
The crackling fire.
The sweet cascading smoke.
Light another match and start anew.
As pinwheels and starbursts float
through brilliant trails.
And visions of all our wanderings gently
drift in liquid air.
mix phor meta
double, double toil and trouble
mix in moonbeams dripped from Hubble
with a pinch of housing bubble
dump in tons of scraped off stubble
just a taste of wry
with a twist of lime
seconds cloned from time
and, Voila! a rhyme to rollick
swing your partner, tase your Dalek
what a party tea for frolic!
double down, but “Don’t Panic!”
brewed up for fun – enjoy the manic
d a n c e
There is a world here that knows itself in the way we all do.
That is to say it has a surface personality, a proper social mask
for formal wear.  Underneath, plots are hatching like fish,
bubbles display quick new life -- snatched into oblivion
barely formed or growing fiercely strong beneath the surface waves.
Was it a warm, wet Spring?
Is the Sun supplying energy without heed to the people's stated needs?
Are ocean waters cursed with pollution born disease?
Do ill winds suffocate a nation's glory?
We could weave this world a better story, play more mindfully
constructed games.  We could take back our focus from blame,
There is a saying that what one knows is merely that
which has not been denied.
Dazzling Genie, weaves scenes of wizardry
upon the dusty window of my gaze.
Champion of crazy crippled dreamers, lazily
giving wing o'er wondrous glades. Simple,
serene days; nights of stars, Moonbeams,
ecstatic serenades, mystics' bliss.
My nightmares exchanged for a kiss of your majesty;
enduring pain relearns its place, energy
refocused by your trail.  Enthralled, at peace,
inspired by your tales of labyrinth space and time.
Honoured, awed by your divine gift, I become
at one
with grace
Will o' the wisp wending a land of glee.
Daisies, bright blooming weeds,
mellifluous, grand.
Whoosh! Genie arms-wide smiles
above foamy sea.
Beyond mere illusion,
absorbed by awareness – horizon
confined by no mind, reason, expanse.
Who imagines,
and in that magic space settles
to reside?
Women in velvet and fur, swan necks,
arrogant tresses,
sip marvelous narcotic, sweet as fire.
Upheld mirror paintings, glowing wire strands,
prism hues, released.
Vibrant perfumes call to wander,
to stray.
Will-less, free, each step,
each feather fall
a gift of mystery, of mystics' play,
caress of bliss.
astral vision
Mystery mists of history holy crescent lightening sky.
Calm anticipation early pinks ascend from eerie violets.
Thunderous Jove twinkles like a happy kitten,
tummy extent for adoration.
Omens, prophecy, hope for endless happy returns,
quests into/out of space/mind.
(without gravity, how can we fall ... or love?)
Aching for stars, planets, dreams,
silent assent that means all is promised.
I touch a cosmic peak,
breathless at such altitude.
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