The Arcane Skill
The resolute mind indomitable,
the feisty surfer on the waves of life
of curled crests with strewn fractured moon
and dark troughs of sunken stars,
recedes with the ebb of time,
looks out for the shore of the past.
The rolling sands etch seaward footprints,
contoured as the crumbling pattern of decay.
Time arrow finds the destined course
to the topography beyond the shore,
away from the eroded wilderness abandoned
where emptiness absorbs the hues of hope.
In the weed-webbed terrain deep within
piles up the wreckage of life unlived,
turning the flushing garden to wasteland.
The corridor paved outside its delicate fence,
waits to be walked spellbound
to the sanguine meadow of tomorrow.
The innovative memory invents
the arcane skill of alchemy,
glistens gold in the rusted crust of ruins.
Marigold blooms in the junkyard
on the scrap stack of desolate being,
with the touch of the Midas mind.
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