Turning the Stone

The unsubstantiated notion of being,

Wondering adrift across the ever winding gyre of the sea,

The unbound and uncluttered whims of a thousand thoughts,

Cast asunder upon the drifting winds,

Away from the reality of what is,

Away from the lies of what are,

Existence a mere thought alone.

 

A clear blue sky,

A smudge on the perfection of the reflection,

Turning the stone makes the world undone,

Yet we hesitate,

And in that act we mark our beginning,

We proclaim our being,

And we make our end.

 

We are...

And we are not.

We are the dream unbound,

The thought undone.

We are the notion of reality,

The substance of fantasy.

We are...

 

The centre no longer holds attraction,

Moonlight cannot contain the dance,

The stars are too much for the heavens,

And so our universe collapse,

Drowned out by the voices we cannot hear,

Blinded by the light we cannot see,

We move in the shadow of what was.

 

Dancing across the formless sky,

We end up lying naked on sand far above a dead sea,

Touching hands moves the wheels of time,

So we touch and we create again,

And then pretend to be like everyone else,

Mere players in the world,

Allowing the darkest corners of our minds to control it all.

 

Heaven or Hell?

We can have both if you like,

Let me make this Heaven.

Let me make this Hell.

Let me make this a paradise that will drive you wild,

Take your pick,

We can always turn the stone again.

 

I can make you a paradise,

You can make me a heaven,

We can give each other wings of fire,

And set the universe ablaze,

We can rule like Gods,

Or simply be the shadows on the wall,

The only limits are what we set ourselves.

 

Demon...

Angel...

Villain...

Hero...

Wings just as dirty,

Thoughts no less imperfect,

Desires no less un-pure.

 

No devils gift is this,

No unnatural power,

No serpent's temptation taken.

These are words - just words,

From the heart, mind and soul,

These are dreams brought forth,

These are untamed desires.

 

We are...

Because the dream cannot be contained,

The reflection always - nearly - perfect,

The whim of a thousand unbound thoughts,

Set upon the electron,

Carved on the stone of the day,

Freed upon the sea of the world.