What is the word for beyond words --
beauty simple, profound.
Stars, sunbeams, miracles of light.
Loved and protected by gods smitten
with ecstasy for such grace in presence.
Fortune favors elegance, true nobility beyond
codes of honor. Petals, aura, body open to
wind, rain, ice and fire.
Consciousness without desire,
except for kind delivery, soothing embrace.
Stars long past linger as sensation.
Twinkly eyes bless beauty
too intense for today.
Beaches at sunset, quiet waves, sparkling reflection;
sand like dulcet bedding, gently shaded for dreaming.
Mountain ponds surrounded by pastel flowers;
birds of grace flitter above in scant aerial array; fairy light just
bright enough to wander without glare or haze.
Clear long straight road into fantasy landscape, then curving
through hills, farms, forests, lit by wide blue breeze,
water-painted sky, scent of perfumed trees.
Winter magic freshly frosted, swirled, made new
and brilliant, distant melody sweet, calm, effulgent.
Smell delicious promise, somnolent, seeking, evoking
a caress of serene awe.
What says augury – curtains of small, dark
birds swooping like raindrops.
Perching to feast in Fall trees on bursting berries.
Birds in homeward flight, toward early sunset.
Full of good harvest, ready to roost through night.
Is this blessed omen of peaceful plenty to dream on?
Or mere preparation for harsh Winter’s tempests to come?
Huddling against terrible storms, warm, safe,
together. May we dream out dark weather in
Twinkle Moon kissed forest of splendor,
delicate paper sculpture.
Tin foil twinkle cast in Moon glow pastel.
Gifts for me misters and mistresses, ladies
and gents, those who pass through and
take a glitter-stamped chance.
May we happily party, inhale presence
for a nonce, eternal.
Who need we be just now?
Strangers nested, perfumed, rarified.
Believe, just enough to gaze hard
into a flowing crystal.
Bold building flow, the heat, the torture.
If it is truly yours, ours, solidity that matters,
drink potency and feel each successive burn.
Turns to take that have not been taken.
Let the crystal burst – it’s liquid sacrament
merges with our immoral souls.
Who do you awake to?