Sunday, April 12, 2015

Under the arch

Even the dark is lighter and the sounds are cleaner
the solid thing has always been, so it seems
all encompassing surrounded by green so greener
the twilight of my once blurry waking dreams.

The weight is lighter and the touch is distinct
the massive sense of surrounding all
the integral speaks from a paper inked
in my mind it begins with a solid wall.

The vertical preamble for what's yet to come
the arch turns in at the top of what's known
knowledge forgotten, from an echoing drum
unconsciously there and subconsciously shown.

In the marrow of my bones, a sense of it
the knowledge wiped clean and rules all broken
The airy arch came from some deep unknown pit
from the wish of my ancestors long unspoken.

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