Under the Healing Wings of a Giving Nature
And into the massive abyss
A world within a mind,
a universe untouched.
Reality is all my own –
this is now a dream awakened.
Those men come marching –
their faces of ticking clocks,
though backwards with time,
They open their mouths to me.
And, like fireworks,
out erupts a flock of songbirds,
carrying with them a tune that ignites the magic from within my soul.
A serenade for me.
the great eagle descends.
Watch how the oaks bear their arms
for his perch.
And I revel in this mastery,
The giant bird sits –
he watches my pondering,
and stares at my thoughts.
The limbs of those trees
extend far beyond their own capabilities now
as they strip me bare
to this fantastic, colorful land.
A liveliness in nature.
A parade of faceless images appear –
and under the ashen smoke, the navigate their dance so precisely.
So uniquely. The intrigue stroking at my sanity.
The luminescent soldiers come forward now,
But what a wondrous surprise in their cuff to my flesh!
Making me quiver
in only what I could imagine a great holiness to be.
A metallic, 4-dimensional rainbow bursts alive –
oh, how it streaks about so confidently
along the innocent blue skies.
Its glowing spirit of essence
illuminating the mossy earth below my feet.
I feel it awaken -
a childhood memory to everything the universe has eyed upon,
all it had ever felt,
and it covers me.
A warm, safe blanket.
I am not afraid,
sheathed in a gloss of an ever-living dream.
And, oh, how so tenderly it cradles me in its arms –
I can taste upon the breast,
and of the life inside,
as those distant, soothing melodies venture towards my ears.
I can feel the swell
of a new evolution begin.
The wings of the eagle spread –
and how exquisitely they are seen,
as they shine of a peacock’s dandy nature.
Falling down upon me,
twirled sensually in an emotional vision,
is a dimly lit brightness lost in the freedom of a feather’s flutter.
though its intensity to never be shown face.
It surely is a vision to behold!
and with newfound eyes I see,
the beauty in me.
As the festive dance of a perfect season’s day expands,
and ever so cheerfully,
a bewilderment that lays in the anarchy of happiness reincarnates –
and how that old and mutated cocoon shed itself
from the pricks of my skin!
For I now have wings!
The eagle calls to me –
This place is now my own;