CloudPillows

INNOCENCE

Innocence,

Sweet flower of bliss,

The perfect child,

In boundless meadow,

Perfectly wild,

Naught to lose,

And naught to gain,

Save the kiss

Of sun and rain,

Heeding not

The gardner's hand,

Nor in need

Of other land.

HOW

Softer still,

Than dandelion whispers,

A more gentle falling

Upon your ear,

Than a flight of

Angel feathers,

The mighty silence

Of listening,

A quicksilver shimmering,

Brushing that same

Sweet silk,

Glistening,

Between these words.

I bid you hear,

The eternal echoes

Of this heart,

Shapeless,

And free,

More common

Than dust,

As precious

As starlight,

Warmer than

Ten thousand suns,

Do I love thee.

As the sky
Contains its clouds,
And the ocean holds
Its breathing swell,
Gently,
We appear,
As mysterious strangers,
Different it seems,
In each other's dreams,
My home
Is your horizon,
My secrets,
Painted in your style,
Yet these are but
The sounds of silence,
The dance of stillness,
Shared,
For a while.

INVISIBLE

Our invisible self,
Both elephants,
And rooms,
The sorcerer,
And his brooms.

APPEALING

Through parting clouds,
The moon and stars,
Shift their gaze,
Warm eyes
And nodding smiles,
Beam down,
As another man's laughter,
Peals triumphant,
To the ends of time,
His brittle mask of reason,
Blowing as dust
Upon the ground.

OVERTHROWN

That knowledge,
Which would usurp mystery
From its rightful throne,
Is an impostor.

QUEST

The single request,
Made from birth,
Since suckling breast,
Till laid in earth,
Is that you foretell
Much more than I,
To spell my worth,
Before I die.

ALIGHT

There is no more such warm a delight,
Than tearing out each serious page,
And then as tinder, to set alight,
Upon the roaring flame of laughter.

CUPID

Thus it seems

That shattered dreams,

Will feel like broken hearts,

When they're but the ways

And ricochets,

Of Cupid,

And his darts.

TOUCH

Touch is a confirmation of unity,
Two sensations
Only born
When they meet as one,
A metaphor
In the language of feeling
Closest to our hearts.

MOONDANCE

My ring-a-ring-o-roses,
Jiving queen,
Whose Mona Lisa
Smile serene,
Confides her secret,
There to glean,
The invisible hides
In what is seen.

PATHWAY

It never was
The mere computation
Of cold probability,
Only for the seeing,
But sparks of fire,
Exploding,
Above a sea
Of volatile tears,
Feeling their way
Into being,
Countless years
Of new tomorrows,
Baby steps of desire,
Confounded,
By the tripwire of morality.

TOP PRIORITY

Every question has a rainbow hue,

Not pertaining to just this,

Or just that,

But like a spinning top,

It is the whole,

Balanced,

On a point.

PEBBLES

Dropping pebbles,

Silken, silvered ripples

Surround me,

Escaping,

To a distant past,

An unknown shore,

Carrying with them,

The broken reflection,

Of me,

Dropping more.