Pseudo epic excerpt
The gentle embrace of a new morning
Touches me as if to say something,
And Excalibur is only myth
Turned to the silent sky.
Oblique observations …
Shades of part time,
Veiled in Contantinople
I try to smile;
A floating sensation of force
Yet to be developed.
In the fractal rain Herod dances
Lightly in pairs of the seven …
Sealed is the gate
From here to the eternal
And we enter
Like the newborn do
To paint the sky in smiling lucid colours.
The bird od prey goes with us
As does the novelty of the seventh morning;
Moaning its distress to us.
What is there left
But this magnificent gift
We must not let go astray?
Never was there any mountain in this place!
Never was ther any Pharaoh here,
As all things being equal will suggest;
A suggestion of a novelty must come,
For all the people in this derelict place
Are hidden in everyday conjunctions
Of partialities consumed into
The tidal wave of infancy …
On silent sand
Newborn mothers dwell,
As do their siblings
The brothers and sisters of whom
Are following the absorbing sun
With no fear.
A savage dropped
Is dropped in abundant rain.
as we approach the end of this collective (either prelife or afterlife) dreamscape, novelties prolong our final moments before waking up, “to paint the sky in smiling lucid colours”, perhaps perhaps perhaps
enjoyed the read