Sunday, 21 February 2010

The Moon, The Glow, The Light.

The moon stills, tall above
wailing at the stars
for peace.
It's movement slow and enigmatic
slowly it curdles
set against a darkness
of faded light.

It's voice hangs silent,
it's pose replete;
as the stars begin to fade
and so to it,
absorbed by only one star
breaking a blue amber sky.

and it is through the swelling of the tide
that the water falls and erodes,
bringing footsteps freshly knitted into our minds.
the fizz and crackle of brown foam colliding,
obliterating all obstacles
and bringing the beginning of new horizons.
impregnated with noise
and wind
and whisperings.

the ocean is a mother,
a tightly held pair of seaweed freckled hands
holding always onto the shore.
soothing the wild wilderness of the wind.

Her crown fixed forever,
despite the rough tide of swinging hips,
dancing in soft rhythm.
a pulling caress of nightingale vibrations
across floor tiles and damp light rooms
where we all flounder in movement,
enveloped inside sunshine.

arms wrapped, limbs corroded,
sweat seaps from pores, filling the
room with a beautiful aroma of pungent debauchery
that will remain long after we have left
and returned to morning light rooms
where some of us sleep and some of us never sleep.

The night is in our eyes and is ours forever.
let it always be this way.

The noise of the morning rises, and disturbs
the lettering upon my wandering thoughts.

Slowly i begin to shout in ripples of celebration,
and as i do a rainbow of colourful flowers flows out from my mouth
and i sing,
in adoration of the moon.

it is from the moon
by giving it a name
or a purpose
to seek to explain
that this seed is extracted from me
and becomes lost in the ether.

It is to the moon
that i write and sing and share this thought.

For myself and the moon only,
that i breathe and rejoice,
this mind.
Alert and in shouts of hysterical rage
I sing. It sings. Relentless.
Despite the deprivation of sleep
and the solitude it ultimately seeks.

Flitting open, moments of bubbles
and wonder fall across shores, and lines of open
unknown places, where we wander in free.

Of dreaming, of losing falling winds
water flowing over silken summer.
Light flounders and changes its path
in constant patterns
in silent freckled hands.

The darkness and beyond
and orange light;
a dress i wear and embrace
and spiral
and celebrate.

This nightwalk i simmer.
This object i pursue.
until the dawn arises
and fills my crying
with joy and delight and whisps
of slowly rising never-ending relentless pathways.

in sighting unlighted minds
with joy and solitude
and a lack of purpose,
we fall.
we flounder.
we embrace the evening.

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