Conduit
New ripples in the chaos
(behind attic walls);
oceans of mystery
between balance and control,
between her flower and stone,
give and take,
silence and exposition.
When a door becomes a window
(transference between thoughts/veils),
Look past full moon thoughts and warm satisfactions
for
potent trials of expression
pushed from Viable soil
into distraction of self,
from silver fields to the edges of the poetic word, the fringes,
to rebuild, and grow strong again.
Older magic,
conjunction of spheres,
original songs...
So far. So good.