"We pass the word around; we ponder how the case is put by different people, we read the poetry; we meditate over the literature; we play the music; we change our minds; we reach an understanding. Society evolves this way, not by shouting each other down, but by the unique capacity of unique, individual human beings to comprehend each other." - Lewis Thomas

Monday, August 16, 2010

The Looking Glass

Its the realization that comes
When the reflections holds no meaning
The image, turns it back and walks away.

The ripples of water push life in all directions
Forced by a rainfall of stone and timber
That face which was and is no more.

Like a child with a stick,
Attempting to draw a boat in the wave.
I reach out and only plunge deeper.

Cognition like a canablistic maze
Igniting like flame to a fistful of gasoline,
Immersed in the liquid

Eyes staring upward,
Like a saint towards the heavens,
Staring back at my reflection in the waters.
A hand, like a petal floating upon the sea,
Touched my neck with a fragile floral fingers
With the gentle touch and startle, there was silence.

A relaxation, calming, liquid emptiness.
Conversational opening like music in the water
Calling to the stones and song;

Braking the mystique between colours.
A loving gaze like that of a hypnotists pendulum,
The warming reflection of liquid over head.

Cavernous doorways exit the mind
Swallowing glass, winged seraph burning angel.
Nine clouds hidding among the oak.
Behind us lies a burning gate,
Opened like love to envy,
Ashes to embers, dust to stone.

A record player spinning without a pin
Chess pieces move themselves, in endless stalemate.
Reflections in a mirror of time's passing.

The looking glass, like a soul stands between,
Two burning chariots, like titans clashing.
Washed sand against the diamond shores;

Shimmers of abstract landscapes
Reflection but exist within each grain of dust
Like airy existance shattered by dreams.
It was the realization that exists
Within the reflections that holds the desires.
Her eyes pulling me towards

Like a hand on your back,
Pushing towards the ripples in my head.
An opening in the canablistic maze,

Her arms and mine
In a dreamscape,
born entirely of mind and soul.

Her touch like petals
Floating above the water,
Her lips as cool as liquid.

Tears like teases,
An ending in eternity
Like a saint staring at the heavens.

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