Monday, November 22, 2010

swaying with the crowd, alone i dreamt

for all that it isn't 
it's everything i need

for every moment that passes too quickly,

there's still eternity.

sitting on the steps

eyes closed

over thoughts that come back

around to the same worn path.
the gate is open.
it's a straight path 
through beautiful country -
vibrant tall grass padded down
by gentle plodding of adventurous children
they run by consumed with wonder, 
imaginations running wild.
clean blue sky, occasional billowing clouds,
the entire scene lain over with a golden aura.
no houses in sight save one
laughter, happiness
pervade every detail

standing up and swaying gently

why does everyone seem to stare so coldly?
the gate, closed.
drifting images,
blackness closes in,
the smell of lavender,
your face,