This particular work was written probably about a month after Nuncio, submerged as usual... -->
To Discover the Dawn:
The ground is damp from the thawing snow and the blackbirds
call incessantly over the bitter morning breeze. My face is
flushed with warmth, and my heart pounds with each cold breath
I take, for I have been running all night.
Now ... S l o w l y . . . MAJESTICALLY, the fiery orb floats up
from the horizon ... bounding in a sea of colour. Hues of lavender,
crimsons, and green swirl up from the air around the swelling globe.
Never satisfied with staying in one place they chase the sun higher
in their irridescent fury. The birds shrill so loudly that I can
barely think, yet ... intuitively, I realize that the colours were always there...
I SCREAM my existence along with the birds lofting lazily in the sky,
or sitting in their tree contemplating whatever they do instead of their
navels. The Dawn is here ... within me; if only I choose to see it, and
it will last as long as I am able to feel it.
Suddenly, there is no need to run. Nothing in the past is so terrible as
to obliterate hope for future days. There is no more need to search. I
have found what I have been looking for ...
The mist rises up from the lavender shaded grass exuding a hazy scent of
leather, raspberries, and almonds. Even the bee rises up to greet thee
as the ever-warming breeze nudges against a single droplet of dew, which
glows vibrantly in the slicing rays of the morning sun as it falls ...
Into the pool of your consciousness.
A Poetic Writhing in Two Parts
Merely waiting to be discovered.
I have discovered myself.
f
a
l
l
s
. . . s o u n d l e s s l y . . .
Rolling in the grass...
Lost in the mist...
Falling endlessly into yourself.
Alchemist