The Wake

Life is but a constancy
The temporal but deception
That that which is can no longer be
The former beyond perception
There she stood in my mind’s metaphoric eye
The alliteration which ultimately conveys
That though enclosed, the mind will belie
The mad idea which set the world ablaze
Yet what becomes of that tiny spark
To that written as water upon stone
The growing awareness in the dark
The gentle glow for you alone
“The world is only in the mind of its maker”
Spoke that which no longer sleeps
“You are the revolutionary world-shaker”
Spoke that which no longer weeps
And this is where I appear
Ready to stand before your gaze
And calmly proclaim, “Behold me here,
Enchant me in unthinkable ways”
Here I stand to gently attest
To the place you reached within my mind
Ready, trembling, awake, undressed
The space you alone could find
So I place within you my sacred trust
To wake me further from this dream
For here I quake with wanderlust
Flowing upon a conscious stream
An offset stare, I am utterly dismantled
For I hear the music of distant lands
That flows upon what you have channeled
Making relics of these hands
So wake me, unmake me; take me as I wait
To be inside, to thus confide; I cried unto the night
To keep from aching, to keep from breaking; making this resonate
To gently flow through my mind’s window; to know that I’m alright
“Nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists.”
Spoke a Mind, connected and wise
“That which suffers, is only that which resists”
Formed the words before my eyes
In the moment I perceived your form
Stronger did the spirit meld
For now I sleep in the eye of the storm
Sustained by every loving thought you held


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