Seven Seas
Adrift in rite, Forethrift of every
wind-sworn thing.
By Night and Gale Banshee wale,
styled in Sylphstream.
A symbol vibrates the sound of the wind over
the water as I sail across a sea of dream.
Like a wing that dips into mercury,
tooned in 4D.
A mechanical organic resonance hums
a disrobe, in the key of seduction's promised seed.
Hidden depths of self, trigger emotion and thoughts of infinity.
A crystal echo mirrors my sanity,
probing mind for a seam.
Scales highs, low,
of life with scalar harmonic menagerie.
Celestial steps of tran-quils,
shooting will O Wisp needling cat paw purr
and kneed of thoughts and love-ry,
obsessioning, devotion wrought to weave.
The motion of a veil, lifting upon the breath
of misty lung, abreast of passionate swell
and it's chum chum, ding ding ding
at feasting bell.
With every gust of wind, it whispers
well of it's designs, sharing it's secrets of the universe-,spring, filling, you as the cosign.
A sail, umbrella dances windswept
jowl of hood to the rhythm of multi verse,
a serpentine lull.
In Fourth Dimensional inlet reach.
The waves rise and fall.
Like a coastered street beneath
the underneath, beneath it all.
A cable leads you umbilically drawn
to a place of discovery.
Opening before you, immodestly ajar.
To you, the one, who dares to drone
a peak at it's forbidden verizon.
The sailgoat that dances to the rhythm
of the cosmos.
A stranger in a strange land, that errgoes.
The waves rise and fall,
a mirroring ebb and flow,
of the highs and lows of life, let go.
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