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the green and the blue
the green and the blue
the sheltering wind
Strips our souls of weight
Simple sounds transpire
We sit & wait
In time we’ve found a dream
In light, darkness seems
Head of horns rise
(he died)
Lady of green rests
(inside)
Between the two
Blessed
We dance
For never
And ever
A space
A soul
Born of this
Bliss
Between two
Green & blue
The rise of time
A simplified version
Moments spent between
This & that
2 dreams
In storms of silence
& action of words
Raped by science
Magic’s absorbed
Genetic propensity
The field of the day
Upon our lips passion
These moments prey
Stay
Waves of passion sort through me
All dreams gone dust solidified
The blood’s dried
Left alone I sift the sand
Molten motion, waves in hand
The glass glimmers by two
Ask not another, what you would choose
Each has a way
From present to past
In future’s memorial
All comes to pass
For we (youIthey)
Seek but a moment
Of valuable time
Tomorrow the rise
Today in our eyes
Realize
Drifting potions devour
All we would see
Time’s tender motion
What we could be
Fear not for the day
Of might be
Hold close the clay
So dear to me
Formed of blood and sand
Broken glass
Becomes blood and sand
Becomes
Broken glass
Become blood and sand
Becomes…
At last
The dream
(she said)
be
Comments
- Author
Thank you ltfawkes, I appreciate the kindness
I like it. The rhythm reminded me of litany - recitation and response. I could almost hear it as a song or a chant.
L.T.
- Author
shazwellyn, I thank you for the compliment & visit. The waves drift through me...
It is like the waves of the sea - what a lovely creation:)
- Author
Thank you, Moulik Mistry. Sometimes...the moon gets in my eye...
Interesting, very interesting...
- Author
thevoice, thank you. Your kind words mean much 2 me.
really solid hub thanks
- Author
Thank you, Springboard. Sometimes the splinters find egress in these...
Enjoyed the piece. :)
- Author
2 true, Mentalist acer. The last line's an homage to a bit of graffiti in my hometown. The 'I' from then, the 'Us' of now, and the union of the two in the future.
- Author
Thank you, philip carey 61. I don't know why, but the older I get the shorter the lines become...
I'ts not easy to just be..
It reads like a list, almost, but it somehow works. Well done.
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