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Illumined twinkles in glazed, alluring sight
riveting the mind’s telescopic, diaphanous stroke
with the abstruse nectar
from the bewitchment
of a limpid, quixotic night.
Deep into the fragmented and gossamer urges
we baptize our eyes in a galactic spin,
churning like a blender
the stalking questioning gnomes
hiding deep within.
Upon the glistening, radiance of bronze pedestals,
which hover beyond the constellation’s seen
are created immortal golden hearts of verses
that we taste in the stirrings of a dream.
Into the waiting cosmic miasma’s flow
our journey of flittering thought
becomes what we know.
Beginning at the place
where it also ends,
by wings sewn to the soul
from the muse’s guiding wind.
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