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Looking up from below, a Cascade of flower petals tumble towards viewer. Orson Wells, illustration, cover art. A large moon hangs high in the sky. A lake reflects the stars and moon nicely along with the focal point an onyx towers illuminated windows. Tim Burton masterwork.
Alison,
Steps once fallow press fecundity from soul to heel.
A stride well worn.
Was it difficult?
No, I couldn't say it was. Serendipity fouled the marionette.
Cut free, I find reality in relief. Now I see my time.
Effortless?
With ease a crush, obtuse I am not.
I no longer feed short sight.
Shattering cages offers no consolation.
Home found in the warm, this glow tugs.
Darkness consumes a spark.
Struck again plasmatic moonlight held by a hand.
Reality put to bed, I comprehend this trail in a moonlight.
Who is the dreamer?
One that clings to what is not, or 1 that coaxes possibility from the dark?
Marred and lost?
These petals overcast.
Starlight kisses my reflection.
Service to what I found, my good, my spirit finds ease.
Should this spark catch fuel.
Could would once was betray re-ignition?
Love bound in saught. We sought what was cold, then what was not.
Could we ever abandon what is reborn in due time?
1ov3
David
Post Script: A tranche in time our experiences bookend life. Excuses to ride a lonely trail fracture with a smile.
