Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Inside the pen written its small flood
so many worlds words will pour forth
only to be swept away by the hand
of a wave, what then, longing, and

we signal from the cave of forgetfulness
trying to remember vision that once
danced deep inside the bottle of stone,
alone, but not alone, gone but not so

so many trees written in the blood
of the branches of thought, leaf key
turning the lock of blue infinity
holding back the emptiness, of the sky
wordless wonder, burst asunder, hush!

oh, revolving enchanter of fortune tides
maker juggler of flowing cause, pause
and finally grasped the eureka!

for those dreams that seeker the far shore
the ones holding up lanterns of fireflies
to the plinth of the navel of the neither
or opening doors into the mouth of the sea
she walks through the voices of the departed

who once bore the oracle of liquid souls
hidden forever fire word that spoke her name
fountain of fathoms adrift past the rift of space
vast wombs of night holding lit temples of stars
making love in the great dark chasms of heaven

Deep poem. Powerful poem. Fine theme.