Resemble

Enter the fray, standing again to rediscover the enchantment.

It was dismal and dark, and desolation was what was spoken.

And the world of worlds found its encampment, I will speak.

What layers unfolded and foretold while it was all still broken.

 

If you go to sleep, it must be that you curl within low clouds.
In the wavy, weaving air in a seven-hour chariot under the pillow.
If I fall asleep, then where must I be to blaze on trails in rounds?
Spiraling above a heavy raining sky, like a shooting star of willow.

 

Far off is much dark and blocked.
Turning under the blanket and stretching out a foot,
my step had almost missed the branch aloft the giant tree.
Was it here that I had walked?
It seems I've been here long before it changed its wood.
But as I try to recall, I'm weary of the dull matter's keep.

 

Somewhere out here is a sleeping sprite.
Seeking out the drifting naiad, she keeps water's light.
Searching the lands of fairy and sparkle dust.
I dreamed and in that dream it became who I was.

 

The trees that carried us, on vine and branch, twine and leaf
That even though the rich inventor among us, lingers in relief
I hold that the life of magical world and kingdom of softest glow
I see him and you and all who know, the priceless eternal soul.

 

Swimming on elements of wind and air.

Without a care I drift, I'm an onlooker in the night.

They wandered far with misted sails pushing onward then.

The entwined leaf within cove and lair.

Sub dimension outlines a slope and deceives sight.

Falling into the sky, a corridor of time never knowing when.

 

The host used to gather in heaven's span.

Thundering through time not to hurt moments pan.

Wishing I was there and dancing aloft.

Empty fingers of a breeze on my back touch soft.

 

 

 

 

 

 

{TBC}

  

 

©Iggy 1994-95-96

Working titles for this body of work were 'Memory Or Myth', 'Corridor', and 'Sleeping Spiritus'