| |
When Still Waters Rest
in the sweet-water
of the dreamtime,
I wade with slow
easy steps
it is a waning light
of hope, that illuminates
a compendium in dreams
written as my heart
beats out the ink
from conception,
this story was confused
in death and life
And I hang
over the edge of tsunami
and I balance on pinewood,
the waters flow is stilled
but beats to the heart
of my dreams,
and the moons turn
forever lifts my head
and my spirit,
past the firmament
I am a child of darkness
cocooned in the light,
with the Kaleidoscope
of life and dreams
still writing,
until this pen
in the hand of my heart,
is silenced and at rest
|