Twilight at the Dark of the Moon

Moving inward.
Spiraling
into deepest silence.
Feel me here,
oh my most darling.
Here is the free-est flow,
river of bliss.  Bounty
of years of grey resistance,
incrementally awakened to
swirling shades —
mystic purples,
mad magentas,
sky-eyed blues.
There is ancient music,
crescendos to peals.
Layered millennial ears,
creatures of seas to trees
murmur through.
Ripples of soundwaves,
broker wisdom
not yet condensed into words.
Romances spun of clay and sand,
woven into fashion’s fabrics.
Hearty voices join,
create regaled mythology.
Star-shaped world story
reverberates with
chill and heat.
Nascent strive for enriched clarity
that must open ever more widely,
a luminous spiral
up, out, in, around.
Come, brave as you imagine.
In that brief eternal interval
all of energy
coalesces.
.
.
.
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