To Share the Dream

Connections calling deep within the night.
Far from waking world's feel of fright.
For here there is a setting free within
the will to be. Emotions impinge, yet
the love never ends. Timeless moments
find a feel of quality within each living image.
Let the real world go and find your soul.
Intimate and flying free, completely uninhibited.

A sense of tragedy entwined within the prize
of laurels - heady symbols of another victory.
The hero, as the leaves, will die again.
The maiden fair bequeaths her ribbon,
growing old within man's time, so unforgiving.
Circular and unimpeded, natural
and unexempt - patterns moving
in a constancy of matter's repetition.

Birth to death, oh yes, reborn again.
Suffering to earn another share - of what...?
A heaven never quite achieved within reality.
Oh, but feel the hellfire ever burning
bright within. As secretly, the sins of life
and mankind's mind become enumerated.
Bury them, then wonder why you cannot
stand the site of your own grave.

But oh, their dreams are full of such delight!
Flesh on flesh - a unity. Two to one within
some ultimate of a congruity. Pheromones
so full of energy. Dancing starlit wonder
in the universal plunder of it all. Lost within
that other world - obsession. Dementia -
a flower come to bloom. But all too soon -
again - the waking hours break back in.

Despoiling the constancy of dreams.
The day-world in denial of its soul.
Delegating spirit to a place that never
felt the warmth of sun on skin, so bold.
A rhythm blossoming within the ear.
Heart beating with a rush of daytime fear.
Forgetting, yet again, the sense of wholeness
living deep within each cell.

A flash of light begins the consummation.
Their friends and relatives are always present.
Intense, the heated light of funeral pyres.
Ashes finding flight within the wind before
the ending ever really quite sets in. Seeking
yet another form of being. Hades nods
his head in recognition - folds his arms -
allowing yet another spirit to fly freely
o'er the river of all norms.

No payment due. No golden round required.
The difference set - metallic sheen that loses
to the lustrous living light. When love becomes
the only living fire. No pain, no ardent suffering.
Instead, a joyful flight into the everything.
Composing symphonies in dead of night -
amid the fright that grows into a version
of their own diverse decomposition.
A thrill, a thrust - release in letting go.
Even as symbolic tomes begin their gathering.
Yellow-gold to orange and then, they fled
right back into the red. Seeking to begin
it all again.

Startled, as the dawn depicted life
in its horizons as a distance of pure,
awesome mystery. Its warmth creating
morning dew that sang its song angelically
in prisms of light's wonder. The shadows
long and sleepy from the night. Remembering
the dream of freedom's flight. But then
another rhythm beating in - the ticking
of that manmade clock. Oh stop!
Return us to the timelessness we need.

A sense of tragedy entwined within the prize
of laurels - still symbolic of another victory.
The hero, as the leaves, will die again.
The maiden fair bequeaths her ribbon,
growing old within man's time, so unforgiving.
Circular and unimpeded, natural
and unexempt - patterns moving
in a constancy of matter's repetition.
The day-world breaking into night's composure.
Refusing yet again to share the dream...

? Michaelette ?

9/25/2003
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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