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Creation of Us- In Collaboration with Grace (Idryad)
I have only a scattered recollection
Of celestial musics
Half remembered
In moments
Of stillness
Missing what doesn’t exist
grasping floating shadows
reading distant hopes in clouds
nine fluffy seats
you remember that
In the ever ripening grip of nature
The bower of cyclic birth
Seems to gather about me
Anew
Fresh with possibility
Fraught with purpose
there, I etch my hopes
there in gentle repose my soul
reaching for something more
as tangible as dreams
in waking hours
Echoes whisper in fever dreams
Where vast cosmos erupts
From a pinpoint
Stretching phantom limbs
To unfathomable reaches
A sword of infinite suns
A pommel of planets
In my palms
trumpet hails my becoming
from nothingness to reality
as of mine in dreams
the constellation coalesces
to burst of colours
I see fires of creation
In each revolving dawn
A myriad of colors
I have not the mind to name
look up and see the galaxies
over us
celestial orchestra with choirs
of angels
I have sprung from a carapace
Of earthen clays
To find love
Drawing breaths of dust
And loss
Touch the dusts of creation
to carnal body
imbuing a soul within
I have seen each closing day
In hues of purples
Crimsons
And pink
Draw a cloak of Cepheid variable stars
Across my silent face.
Creation of Us
By Grace (Idryad) and Daniel Christensen
Of celestial musics
Half remembered
In moments
Of stillness
Missing what doesn’t exist
grasping floating shadows
reading distant hopes in clouds
nine fluffy seats
you remember that
In the ever ripening grip of nature
The bower of cyclic birth
Seems to gather about me
Anew
Fresh with possibility
Fraught with purpose
there, I etch my hopes
there in gentle repose my soul
reaching for something more
as tangible as dreams
in waking hours
Echoes whisper in fever dreams
Where vast cosmos erupts
From a pinpoint
Stretching phantom limbs
To unfathomable reaches
A sword of infinite suns
A pommel of planets
In my palms
trumpet hails my becoming
from nothingness to reality
as of mine in dreams
the constellation coalesces
to burst of colours
I see fires of creation
In each revolving dawn
A myriad of colors
I have not the mind to name
look up and see the galaxies
over us
celestial orchestra with choirs
of angels
I have sprung from a carapace
Of earthen clays
To find love
Drawing breaths of dust
And loss
Touch the dusts of creation
to carnal body
imbuing a soul within
I have seen each closing day
In hues of purples
Crimsons
And pink
Draw a cloak of Cepheid variable stars
Across my silent face.
Creation of Us
By Grace (Idryad) and Daniel Christensen
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