And Now, Images

Canvas of paper
White proud paper and blue black ink
Like floating fluid, notes of music
Soft brush strokes, to draw in you
The most colorful pictures

Walk, you’re not walking
Close your eyes
See you, dreaming
See me, dreamer
White eyed observer

I don’t know who created you
But we all know who made you
And you should know too,
You did
You with your half open lips and your bag of broken sticks

The moon to your back, walker
Run now, barefoot talker
Cobblestones will cushion your leather soles
Run through the empty silent streets
Echoes of your own breath behind the sheets

Tired but not dead
No, not dead, hear that heart beat
You are a rocket
Fly, part the clouds
Fly, blue morning summer sky

When you come
To the place of color, the place of images
Angels dance around clouds
Warm tears of ecstasy bound
From where your eyes used to be found

Pain? No
Painless reality is now
You’ve risen from your sleep
But feel your dream, real
And woken with you

Look now, your body grows
Your spirit expands to fill the holes
Yesterday maker, walker, dreamer, runner
Tomorrow surreal flying essence
And now, images of varicolor

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