Dreams are just the
of what has yet to be.
the ragged seas
of times visited and free.
Haunting are the
of sweet songs yet unsung
Hellish are the
from anguished hands unwrung
just the dreams
of what has been and past.
Mended at the
in hope that they will last
Hopeless task for
and rotting timbers to permit.
Bright paint clung but
now it seems
to peel and fade and not quite fit.
Echoes from the sharpest moments
Reverberate both ways in time.
Anticipate the anguished silence.
Participate in mounting joy.
Preternatural knowledge of the cusp
Comes to all who wait aware.
Destiny's blade must make air quiver
Even ere it passes there
Cutting souls with love or pain.
For Destiny's hand is bound by time
Frozen into Future's past
A pitiable thing at the last.
Time and space is a crystal jewel,
Four dimensioned lotus flower
Springing from the brow of rule.
Life is like a filament,
Threaded through the Eye of now
Spun upon the firmament.
And when the cord is sharply bent
It ripples back to smoother times
Shapes the stream of thought unspent
Into the form of future rhymes.