To sleep within the silence
of a newly wakened dawn;
as if a fawn stole up to dance
within a glance of loving nurturance,
as mists unfurl the mystery of life.
We live within a dream-like state
that waits for mind's deliverance
from time and space within a unity
that seeks the source of every derivation;
and heart responds with wisdom
so unerring that it has to be divine.
'Tis then the mists unfurl themselves
into a molten state of living light
that dwells within the darkness of all matter;
seeking, searching, reaching out
for just one focused sound of understanding,
that lives in words that stream from realms
beyond our mind's imagining.
Medieval in a sense of renaissance,
pure resonance of creativity
that cannot help but speak of verity,
as magic catches in a breeze of utter revelation;
received within sensation that utters words
in fields of blind devotion to emotive mysteries,
that sleep within the silence
of a newly wakened dawn.
Listen! Can you hear its sound . . . ?
resounding through the mind of all of time
in utter understanding of the feel
of magic-in-the-making of it all;
invisible, this purity of fields
conceived within a sense
that utters all the innocence of flesh . . .
Copyright© 2000 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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