By Tony DeLorger © 2011
My thoughts of fancy like fireflies,
fill the night with movement,
uncontained and freedom bound,
they draw the darkness from shadows.
Feared not from awakening the sleep
of still minds lost,
my thoughts seek out others of ilk,
probing the depths of imagination
and filling the dark moist air with frenzied flight.
Like armies of sparks amassing,
thoughts find solace in will,
the choice of expression without consideration,
without the complicit thoughts of consciousness,
the limits of belief.
And in that luminous state of being,
within the wings of possibility,
my thoughts are of you,
the stability in my life,
the silver-threaded connection of love
and the meaning of a questioning soul.
Fanciful dreams are but the tip of my thoughts,
the antithesis of my freedom search,
for you are my freedom,
given of heart and encouraged to flourish.
Each time I seek, you are at the ending,
a hand offered in beginnings,
and in the selfless ideal of love,
and the path of fancy to reality.
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