White Mists

The mists arise
(or are they falling down?)
softly, they envelope everything
while songbirds sing just out of sight
lost somewhere within
this white on white

and we sleep while wide awake
perchance to dream a living dream
of our awakening in light
for this white on white reveals
in starkest contradiction
the bold, deep colors that we reach
and paint with our imagination

as a forest wakes in borderlands
where ancient trees are towering
creating ghostly shadows
there among the deepest green
in silence, still they reach
for skies of blue beyond the fog
and climb through all that's in between
seeking for an answer
to the questions no one dared to ask
below, within the dark

and just when the towering tip
of their ever-growing emptiness
breaks through these clouds
that touch the ground
the answer is revealed
to live forever in their memory
in these days that seem to leave
their beauty far behind

and the answer whispers on the wind
that beauty never dies
but lives forever
impressed within pure imagery
awakening again within a dream
when mists of white on white become
the magic of a love once spun
that flows again to earthly realms
and opens up a path
to lead us home . . .


Copyright© 2000 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take Me Home...