Racing through fields with budding hyacinths
The wind mushes my hair, stroking my nape
As cicadas hum out to me of life's grandeur,
That I pause pause as bouyant brooks ebb:
Around me the thrall of Earth Mother
Replays tales of seasons we lead...
Together we are one, listening kindly
Amid creation's songs without question
Until night's refrain gradually ends :
Here I pirouette beneath tiara of hills,
Moistened clay tickling my feet
While fragrant air peals of joy and agony
That ancient forest rocks spill a roll...
I gaze back... a rosy twinkle on my lips
Sighs...how intangible can my tangible world
Speak of nature's eternal flow and eclipses,
Awakening the little girl within.
Those amber embers of muted mushes
those emerging shades of shadows
as suns tendrils soften skies
that grey to nights touch
Rays of golden reds and readied goals
Stretching clouds that simper into twirls of wisp
its journey ongoing
leaving the night
to cool the glowing
stretch of lines splatter
in combing breaks and sprays
and fishing stars
present from light
that once was
What is the color of your tears?
I wish I could paint them
softer blue,
then all of the oceans
can dry up and make that smile
turn into sunlit waves.
And dawn will spread your beauty,
exploding through glazed eyes
as mist gently mushes your hair.
It is at night- time though
when your toes curl
at the very slight tap of dew,
and all is afloat in life's womb again.
Contest, Lexi's Art
Visual 3
7 June 2015
These dreams.
Psychedelic dreams.
Untouchable yet, describable-- in some ways.
One moment turns into something else--
like mixing drinks, experiencing a different taste--
between sweet and sour--hot and cold--
the gray area mushes, turning into a hybrid form.
Interpretations will only add to a stack of questions.
Trying to figure out--deciphering the meanings behind what's already confusing.
The brain fiddles and play with scenarios. Like an unsolved mystery--cliffhangers.
Perhaps it reveals our deepest desires.
Perhaps it reveals our truest natures.
Waking up is pointless.
It ends the adventure.
Even nightmares can be fun--heart races.
Sometimes we try to revert the traces.
Clues are left behind like memories--quickly faded.
These dreams.
Psychotic it seems.
Prescriptions--Doctor recommendations.
Insomniac relations--day dreaming of immeasurable temptations.
Deprived of ecstatic doses--medicine will only nourish addictions.
Shut your eyes and try to fall.
Wake up and it will all dissolve to nothing at all.
Dreams are what we strive for.
Dreams are what we yearn for.
Dreams---they are what we live for.
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