Gold glistening with the sound
of sea-swept gulls that gathered round,
yet never quite touched down within the sand.
The seals bleated, out of sync,
still one with all of nature's harmony.
This miracle could not be
by those whose bent was lent
to shadow's balm. A calm, that
can be overrated, whispered
to them all within the breeze.
Wet or dry, it drew the harmony.
Around the world, within their dreams,
this sense of synchronicity
would never be defeated.
It mattered not, what mortal
and minds might glean from ever-fleeing
dreams. What mattered most
was what it made them feel.
Silence stealing worth from all
the make-believe of purely earthen forms
that never had a chance to know it all.
The magic permeated everything.
Singled out, the source of life
refused to enter in their dreams.
Thus denied, their wrath was spent
abusing all the innocence - so real.
They never knew the feel of
reaching out and
giving in. So very different than surrendering.
Extremes of paradox engaged their lives,
no matter all the stress and strain
the soul of all was made to thus endure.
Earthen plains, the sight of mesmerizing,
natural (and thus instinctive) realms
that they could only see as fear.
Moved beyond the limits of
that only sought their worth in revenue,
the view became much more than
all their stingy hearts could bear.
Another flare, and fire embalmed
the vessels that they'd hoped
the wind would bare.
Too heavy, all the vagrant
of those they forced into their slavery.
They sought to reach into the depths
of sea. Refusing to imagine that their death
was all they really did believe. Their deities
for too long had been numbered.
One was not the number of it all.
Division spent in recklessness
rebellion that could never win it all.
The rise and then the fall
of what they called society -
within one heart that opened out,
without regard, into eternity...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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