Magic Movement

Slipping, sliding, moltenly
to meld into another state of being
fantastically compelling every move
through flesh that rests in stillness
of a meditative reverie
discovering the mystery
of waking dreams come true;

Where many colored mists are turned
into a purity of ever-living form;
archetypal, this regeneration of the soul
where joy abides in realms of creativity
and seeds survive, to live and grow
their way into the springs of utter being.

The ground is rushing up to meet the air
as all that once seemed fair
becomes the base of all injustice;
but evolution now insists
on yet another round of growth.

And faeries dance into the night
in rings of pure enjoyment;
heaven-bent within a scent
of glowing, growing morning dew
just as the switch of magic flickers,
turning every tone into a run
of trilling symmetry.

When hearts begin to sing again
of great awakening;
stepping lightly to the other side,
bridging every distance in a glance,
becoming more and more the whole,
the source of all awareness, soul
that simply seeks to dance all fear away.

While mighty mists are spent
within an ever-moving bent,
that reaches for the sun in adoration;
and fog rolls back upon a past
of scintillating magic that now casts
its mighty spell of love upon us all . . .

?Michaelette?

12/28/2000
Copyright© 2000 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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