Hypnagogia

 
   
To what life  
will you lead me  
leafily,  
Oh, October bush guide  
of post-equinox fading shades?  
   
Sunk in the cornflower    
behind the sun;  
I'll make meals from  
rich dusks  
fostered fondly in the feeling  
though not on draughts    
from sapphire wines  
(or strange grapevines...)  
   
Yes,  
I am "sitting comfortably"  
though you stand so clamped  
on a puzzling hose  
A hallway into further  
vaporous grays?    
   
Remote limpid life  
in tones of a wizard's cloak  
a haunt of gaunt air  
in me awoke    
   
On the cusp of a trance...  
my roots danced;
in these visions  
it spoke  
   
 
   
***  
   
I don't disbelieve in fateful coincidences. I began this as another addition to a "Album Cover" competition, musing on a piece of strange and wonderful art that I love to stare at as a kid. My dad listened to the Moody Blues with me a TON, and On The Threshold Of A Dream was his favorite, and consequently, mine. It's sentimentality here at it's finest. I'm not going to lie, this whole thing has made me stupidly emotional. I began writing this on January 4th, it's taken me 4 days to complete. Ray Thomas (founding member) passed away on the 4th. MBs are renown for their weird and wonderfulness, and I believe some of that magic found it's place in my heart this week and led me to this. *Please search 'Hypnagogia' if you're unsure of what it means.