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Lucid Dreaming

Empty is only the warp of our tapestry,
Part of God's pattern, is only the interval,
Only the silence that shapes His pale music
Remembered, recorded, when drifting from dreams
In that sleep-darkened tent where our souls
Slake their thirst for the new, for the novel,
And the stone still rolls down the million-year cliff
From the beginning of dreams, the red heat of the plains,
The quest for safe shelter, the consuming of carrion....

Yet if dreams hold an answer, as flowers hold fog,
They must answer with breath, and, if they answer,
Must dance among stars, and have their own songs
Of the body and blood, and must sing them.

(The eye's iris closing in the brightening light...
	The body, vanishing in the whightening light...
	The mind --
		an old man running along a beach of blue sand
			with a young girl riding high on his shoulders --
				dissolves into a memory.
	The lips,
		pale and smiling, evaporate,
			smoothed in hot sandy winds,
				dissolve into a line,
	And the eyes,
		gazing into the spaces between the stars,
			grow dim and close on the dark.
	Grow dim and sleep.
	Grow dim and sleep
	Sleep through the deep darkness spread beyond death.)

This darkness is cupped in the palms of the far stars
Where new sunlight falls like feathers through bones.
Where lost constellations have no shapes and no names,
But are parts of His pattern, forgotten mandalas,
While on Earth we return to the sun and the iris,
The iris and sun, gleaming deep in His sleep
That only the rain on the new leaves will lend us.

Stars fading.
	Sun rising.
		Windy city....
			Morning rises
              forever forever 
                 as love rises forever.
We are all 
Awake Now.
	Sunlight falls
		on all our faces
                here on a shore with no name,
				here on blue sands 
                here by the crimson sea.
Stars above dwindle
	towards the edge of light,
		and whirling shake their hair,
			jet ebony, 
               in a free wind blowing
East and West,
	clear and warm,
		 now and forever,
			Hello, good-bye, I'll always love you.

We hold each other here 
Here in the place of God's solitude 
Here in His luminous night.
There are others with us. 
We have met them in another time.

Love,
	for the moon is rising.
Love,
	for the sun delays.


— 1969

Comments on this entry are closed.

  • JiminAlaska April 14, 2019, 8:21 AM

    I remember ’69. 2 years after our flood. Was doing a lot of lucid dreaming/rebuilding.

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