Vagrant Visions

Vagrant Visions


Amid vagrant visions
of an inebriated mind
I searched high and low
for signs of that other …

The one I lost before I was born,
the delicious, perfect, only one
that my heart would bow down to
would surrender to
would give up its life for.

Time moves on ~

Turning slowly
into a will o the wisp,
a pale fragment
of what I once was,
I traipsed through marshes
bogs and quicksands,
caught in willful fantasy,
A tired ghostly soldier
in the dark,
lost in loose dreams
of never never land.

Time moves on ~

Then, at last,
one pure November night
dissolving into tears of the forlorn
(before the dawn began
her rosy dance)
I lay face down
exhausted in the snow,
defeated on the very edge of care

~ And ~

felt a gentle hand
turn my body to the moon,
light splashing the mirror
held above my ashen face,
Words tumbling softly
like liquid silk in space

“Behold, my friend,
did you not know?

You are your own Beloved!”


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