Velvet feathers quill
The canticles of ecstasy.
The ocean, still, breaths in
And out of me,
Reflected in every raindrop,
This July of mermaid lullabies and salty breeze.
Velvet feathers embosom me
In the temple of Divinity.
Quiet still, heartbeats shed tears of ancient bliss.
Quiet still, beauty bleeds pensively through the eyes of memory.
There, who birth gave to the First Swirls
Moves enchanted by life and lyric,
Storytelling the Ways of Mystery –
The Ubiquitous core of Eternity.
As Darkness sways her regal skirt
to the dead’s drumming heartbeats,
I sit still entranced in silence until Being is
and all surroundings disappear.
Sea foam bubbles and kisses itself away in my ears –
the last remnants of the multitude storm
have no sway over the rock of protean lore.
The weathervane slightly oscillates
by the systole and diastole of breath,
reconciling lover and beloved
with the primal scent of lively opiates
in sightless search.
And to commensurate the sweetness
of honeydew, roses, and rosemary blends,
all dreams entorched wed the shadows
in the tireless dance of visceral cantus
and hedgehog air.
Yearning for the souls of quietude —
for the eyes that with wisdom overflow in mystic waterfalls —
I sigh and hum atop a mountain of hope.
I cast off the illusion that feeds off the blind gods
to be the wind that comes and goes
as I quest for the silken voices and bass tones.