far corners

[revolutionR]

I was writing a poem with your name on it
I always thought that if I wrote enough poetry
that someday all the fragments and pieces
would magically come together
that I would see a light shining at the alley's end
that some lines would suddenly stand out
between the others, and I would see it there
I always felt that I was in strange but familiar
territory

That I was listening to another language
that I did not know how to speak, but that was speaking
to me, through different times and places
that was trying to remind me to remember
the secret tongue that I once knew by heart
the words that spoke directly to the soul

This caused me to wander many desolate landscapes
to wander many endless sentences in obscure books
as if I could read them by candle or torch in forgotten
passages that once stumbled through cobwebs of reason
searching in crypts of meaning for a ghostly song
for utterances of dying breath of terrible oath
of madness in its most purest form
as if discovered by chance
in the night a thousand dreams struggling to awaken

And I would wake up as I had slept for centuries
as if I had almost wrapped my trembling fingers
around the shinning star at the end of history
a dream within a dream waking up in another one
inside the queen's chamber her voice echoing
endlessly in my death like trance, in my word
whispered to me from her deepest repose

the cry of the circle of a universe born from the earth
from her fire licked shadows rising up from the sacrament
where the forbidden heavens cavort with the deepest wells
of star tears

[judih]

is the toll too much to pay
from dreamworld and back again to waking
almost there
each time, i miss the secret tile
next time, i'll know what to see
when to reach
how to slide open the panel
from dream to waking
and back again

[saw]

ancient wisdom is there for us, born of dreams....the ontological kettle that simmers on the stove of understanding....as judih suggested, we look for the secret panels