Shine

The child of the celestial heavens walks alone, in the short time between father's descent and mother's rise . Though the child is lonely without  family, he knows that the shine will bring friends long absent, so he shines in a world at dusk: an insignificant glimmering in a world not yet night but no longer day - the glimmer is enough .
Soon the stars wake from their sleep, wake to the sounds of camaraderie . Laughter soon fills the endless sky, and the soft green light of the freshly woken stars slowly shines down on the gathering. Laughter turns to joyous song, a herald of things to come.

The rain comes suddenly, cascading from clouds the color of gun metal. They dance knowing that the very heavens are weeping with joy that they have come together,  for what is rain other than the emotion of the divine? Soon the dancing gives way to sleep,  just as the night gives way to the dawn.

Neruda Dances In The Dreaming

Neruda Dances In The Dreaming.





“Tonight I write the saddest of lines”


I hear this verse again and again in my dreams .words are a currency rarely spent in the Dreaming.


“Write for example the night sky is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the distance “


This rings out. The Dreaming Shifts to a land of winter the sky filled with memories, all ablaze shining like so many bright diamonds in the dark night of the Dreaming.


“The night wind revolves in the sky and sings”


The cold breeze numbs my skin .her voice is haunting in its beauty sending shivers down my spine, shivers that have little to with the cold.


“Tonight I write the saddest of lines.”


A pen is in my hand, until now unnoticed, I write under an Infinite sky.


“I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.”


The words flow from the pen like blood from a wound.


“Through nights like this one I held her in my arms I kissed her again and again under the endless sky”


Even in the land of the Dreaming when her lips touch mine the smell of the ocean washes over me like a wave. The taste of salt is overwhelming.


“She loved me and sometimes I loved her too. How could someone not have loved her great still eyes?”


Her eyes are dark pools reflecting the broken lights of memory; they are rimmed with crystal tears glittering as the fall to the sand.


“Tonight I write the saddest of line’s to think that I do not have her .to feel that I have lost her.”


The Waves wash away the marks of her passing.


“To hear the immense night, still more immense without her and the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.”


The echo of her sobs fill the Dreaming .thought is lost there is only sound.


“What does it matter that my love could not keep her? The night sky is shattered and she is not with me”


The Sun strikes the edge of the Dreaming….