Drawn

We are drawn, somehow compelled
against all sense, in innocence
to seek just what we need
of life and love;
magnetized and mesmerized
into a world of total make-believe
that we now call our own;
yet we are real
more real than merely matter
ever dreamed it could become.

As skies are sung in tones
of living, breathing harmony
and spirit enters into play
through days and nights of ecstasy,
falling through the destined
into streams of destiny
that move, just as we move,
doing more than just surviving,
for the atmosphere revives itself
through these, our loving forms.

And words are then reborn
within a just discovered repetition,
as every word that stays the same,
repeated, finds an everlasting definition
that speaks beyond all syllables
in sultry, sun-drenched tones
that moan aloud of pleasures
that arise at eventide
in these peaks of all experience
that seem a dream of meditative motion
swelling in an oceanic tide of loving life.

Yet we move on,
traveling the valleys
to achieve another peak,
knowing that experience must be
the sense of all reality
that breathes itself awake
in dreams that seem no more
than just hallucination;
when in reality,
another loving incantation
blows the mists of fear away
that of the dark of night
another morning may be born.

We see then, in a different way
as light dissects a crystal fantasy
and the angle changes, uttering
in holographic particles of waves,
meandering through time and space,
creating spaciousness within a solitary point
that changes everything
within one sound of symmetry.

A feast divine, reborn to time,
where taste and scent are maximized
and extremities are realized as one;
because we follow where we're drawn
into eternal tapestries
that weave their way
through dreamlike states
and drawn-out days and nights
of ecstasy . . .

?Michaelette?

12/27/2000
Copyright© 2000 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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