03 January 2017

Té Mélange

My light does not find me, 
and i am told to shine at endless space, 
chaotic expanse of wavelength, 
massive wave in storm of dawn,
universal light perceived not,
eyes like the sky beneath it all, 
stopped by aura and fauna, 
spirit and breath making memory,
a questionable approach to sight, 
changing future in this moment,
changing past in pure illusion, 
this celestial grace would perish, 
as a desire in a metaphor, 
broken by all that is impossible, 
a planet a ship or a star an empire,
or a galaxy a quaint fortress, 
like the desires of winds and roses,
endless gravity consumes light,
reflections of surfaces above current,
revelations of howling canyons, 
endless sand that cannot hold tears,
weightless songs of war saga,
pious emotion without shelter,
time hammering thru lies, 
sins staggering for vicious spies, 
a moment's posture rent,
castles at corners of circles,
bridges encircling wraiths, 
unable to hear the light,
maker's task to forge the heart, 
and carry the wisdom back, 
these relics of mystery boughten, 
a gotten fear to writing gramercy,
a bridling ire and libertine rage,
taking after the teft of sageness, 
the greed of things not about me,
I druther to let you have yourself, 
save putting arsenal amongst you,
forbade of all you desire,
farthest from the blades of grass,
farther than the final moment,
far more than can be known,
as far as the eyes can see,
made of the energy within existence,
so many words for word, 
and none of them with meaning,
surely if the gods are on high, 
we are beneath them all, 
grasping at clouds of mist,
stalling time denying action,
yet better to erode for beauty beneath,
they are sands of time,
and strands of timeless, 
for demands of timelessness, 
made echoes and postures, 
like raindrops and roots,
in this future nearly abandoned, 
for a handshake and a cup of tea.