Wednesday, April 27, 2011

An Interlude.

I feel faceless, graceless in this moment. Not even as succint as mediocre. All around the inspirational, the beautiful, the grace-moments. Skittering over like hair on silk. The pitchfork has aerated the soil , from whence then did this covering shadow come from.
I dream my dreams in loneliness; as from the womb untouched by loving hands. Perhaps the cover is woven of dreams melted like chocolate in the sun.I see, I smell, I crave the sweetness. I could reach and touch but not grasp substance. Patterned though with the marble of shattered dreams.

I stand in the marbled halls. The vision, the light is clear. The spirit senses what the eye has not materialised. All that is seen is a vessel in the corner. Receptive. Do I carry the seeds.

1 comment:

  1. As you embrace the yearning, the knowing that you are so cherished, so wanted. Deeply loved. Let these truths cradle you so that if you stumble or fall, you will fall only into love.