Coming to the Light

 
 
 
My mind playing tricks on my eyes
That golden glow brings me to
worlds of pumpkin coaches,
Valkyrie in flight,
neverlands that never were,
yet so more real than
what passes for day to day.
 
Sadness is beauty brought down by ugliness,
truth succumbing to convenient lies.
Joy is opening all senses into the
spectrum of beauty.
No moderation,
no limitation,
no structural captivity.
Let the stars be shining beacons
calling us home.
Let the wind be a magical cloak,
the rain an exultation.
Let the cold, bleak night be
a treasured, inspiring friend.
 
Let the night carry me forward
Into everfulfilling fantasies
The never empty cup,
the magic wand/magic word,
sprinkled with faery dust,
toasted with the fine bubbles
of celluloid champagne.
Let us, the night and I, sneak off into
exotic wanderlust.
Let us learn the secrets of the Moon and Stars,
ancient runes, alchemical wonders.
Let us play upon the backs of dragons,
learning to fly,
learning to breathe fire,
learning to explore the mountainpeaks
and caverns of
our chthonic fears,
spin them into gold.
 
The new day dawning
will encounter clouds and hailstorms,
turbulence and destruction.
It will be a day of startling downpours,
unsettled wind,
of unreasoned pain
and empty solace.
It will be a day to try our souls.
But it will be a day of infinite possibilities.
 
Let my good friend, the night,
join me in play
to help prepare me for the day.
Let the earth and fire and rain and wind
infuse my spirit
that we all be fellow friends
in the new ventures
coming with the light.
.
.
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