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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The Medicine was harsh Never promised to be good Just enlightening. In luicid dreaming A giant becomes a Self So did Gerd follow To rule too, soon As his father before him Leading his people. I Worlds.. ‘Wind thee careful through these worlds Where words have different meanings Even colors change their shades’. Nights? Dawns? Known to repeat... Missing all the who’s, what’s, why’s, even where’s ‘Not gone... mind you, just missing’. And here, the clearing was very silent. Gerd’s ancestral grandhold Filled with giants. ‘Listen, listen, listen... They all should snore’. But not here, why? ‘Lucid dream time when fevered’, was the answer. Did I then come all the way out of it Or is this or these, sick, unheard parts Presenting issues? My guardian’s voice only answered, sounding deep… ‘Proceed’. Landing, damn, lost again... Home only to strangers. Back to lakes Lost and found Best of losses Best of found Which is it? Dream connections unraveling, unraveled Threads guiding... Where is home? Lucid dreaming on full course Home being the hunted To be, reach out To be, another man. That man? World's adrift Lucid dreaming In forever’s nest. Best remember though... First commandment ‘Light no fire’. Gently lay I on the softest grasses. II ‘Son, do you not see the stars in the sky whispering your name? Did you not know your fathers listened in wonder just the same?’ Gerd grinned. ‘So does the universe laughing Play it’s silly games As we all play the game For fame the same.’ ‘Learn this well’ came a voice of a different persuasion... ‘Chaos cannot last forever feeding... For in the far end comes always, Self-destruction. Itself all burns out it’s Self entirely... All. Even tendrils move to... into the end Extinguishing themselves fighting To survive in utter strange chaos’sness Until they too become Nothing. Know this Nothing... is, The Deep’. III The Deep... Where Only a lost voice remains A soul without gender gobbling itself up Plotting to live. Any scrap being a victory A thread of something, anything To cling to, any last vestige... Of anything to have as a step In which… to once again eat itself. The Deep… Primal Fire Energy. Water Deep evaporated long ago Leaving no vibration of life. No living needed from Ether of any kind For Time itself is stilled. Nothing, no fuel left to burn Only one last weakining voice… Slowly fading away into... Silence. Truly all beyond mortal understanding This, the supreme Isness Nothing, the pure Void... The Deep. IV There, waiting for One Cause For a Word will do. Running on pure empty... Where to find breath for that? A Sun shines on a tired, dirty sign. ‘Life giving provides breath Life taking shortens it…’ Know ye... In this, is... the great secret of all. Life giving feeds itself In the natural processes, it nurtures balance. Life taking destroys itself Feeding on itself and own resources until gone. Balance is the key... Middle of the path traveling being best. My furthest Son… Be ye a best Shepard. Always remain very wary of chaos And it’s feral drawing. More, then more, so easy For the sake of fluff and glitz. Past any chatoyancy’s And their seeming pleasuring shines. Look at this rightly Through the lenses of true history as you travel... Mapping nothings as found For what they truly are... Only lessons. Be ye then a Shepard to all... For see ye truly, you own nothing. How can you... When you truly know nothing. Not there Not here… Not ever.
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