This Strange Magic (Poem)

 

Image result for wilted
Source

 


This strange magic

The dream remains

Ah, to range through spells and mazes

Sights that dazzle though mundane

Meeting the eye that never glazes

So, it’s So, and So…

Keep the watch

The flame of sight

Don’t twist don’t stretch

Realize the right

This strange magic

The dream remains

Hanging like a feather

In the dizzy air

That knows no fear and does not care

So is to become so is to dare

This strange magic

The dream remains

Eternal is a word for fools

Their own wardens

In arbitrary prisons of stylized rules

The true bars are flowers

Of an iron that does not hold but does not break

Rising, wilting, into ever

All their graves, and all their births a lake

A shimmering light hailing neither always neither never

This Strange Magic

The dream remains

Lucid on this mulchy bed of dust and ashes

Wind we are wind we will

We never cry we always spill
Our garlands of red roses

On the air

The dream that never dozes

A perfume to greet immortal noses

Sweetest

I kiss you

I kiss the air

One thought on “This Strange Magic (Poem)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s