A Perfect Illusion


29 May 2013


The more I ruminate the more I feel this must be done.

To dispel the mysteries. Not of the act, but of the joining

of hearts, closely as can be mustered under the given

circumstances. The created circumstances.


Layers upon gossamer layers of cloudy soft whispers, joy

of belonging, of fog lights shining through eons of time lost.

Color of life returning to the present, where time’s passing

bleached the heart of passion.


It brings tears to think of never having lived that moment; The big

balcony, that perfect illusion.


Poet and Muse

I float, robes billowing, cross- legged in vast wind pools, squinting in the majesty;  Your canvas of light.

I travel your lavender prism beam splashing the outermost corner of my mind.

Reference to saccharine frost bring aching for long parted marrow. Truth is hard-won after eons of war, desolation.

I sleep in fits of peace and ram at your walls for the gifting. Glimpses to travel another soul in spaces too vast for human comprehension.

I wake human again, thirsting for the reckoning, acknowledgement known only among Gods.

I smooth my robes in the silent wind and peer out, heart scanning the landscape for signs.

Absence hollows the space, so I scatter seeds, blow essence of wildflowers and golden dust into the void.

I permeate the vastness awaiting light and water.

Finally it comes, swept into the painted canvas of your poetry. Exotic color, neon fish and butterflies emerge.

The inception of nature and mineral-rich soil. New creatures of unparalleled beauty shadowed and illuminated by volcanic light.

Come whisper the simplicity. We crave discovery, complete in our consumption.

I leave moist impressions on your corporal temple, a warm trickle to the sea of our nothingness.