Guest guest Posted November 2, 2003 Report Share Posted November 2, 2003 Inside within the curling white smoke reaching and coiling back within what’s spiraling inside me, this clay teapot-moment in time cracks, flashes back to the past and then turns to vibhuti ash, scattered, scattered like cloud-thoughts scuttling across the lightening sky of a storm mind Pale faces loom opaque against the clear dark night, pearled repast people, pulling the tides of my heart high, like phases of the moon might do when viewed and reviewed from Konya’s purpled hills, watched and watched again from frozen Arctic shores, from Saami doors. Like Death’s Head moths, everyone I've ever loved lights on the flower of my remembrance and their sweetness and bitterness, their kindness and cruelty all open at once in me and I am touched and anointed in Mercy. Beloved ones’ voices reverberate from within vibrant masks, vibrate from the tomb of timelessness then dissolve as the visage’s I envision swirl around me like blossoms, like petals falling in embered euphemisms for something or someone gone cinder in the fire-y refrains of an ancient Celestial Song. M MM LoveAlways, Mazie See when your friends are online with MSN Messenger 6.0. Download it now FREE! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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