Open Mind ana Longing Energitic Heart

 

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Open mind Longing with an Energetic heart!
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So another Mind Open & a Longing:
Wingmakers Chamber 8 poetry music and philosophy today frum Q

i am defenseless to denial thievery and neglect
it jest is what it is
when ya hurt on other humans,
don’t let that be U now 馃檪 rememebr 8 is supposed to be great!tip click on music link at bottom of page then listen to while u read resta post-it
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Another Mind Open

~~~~~~~~~~

There was a fire where smoke gathered
and danced like rivers without gravity
to the rattle of drums.
~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes I would look inside the smoke
but it curled away and covered itself
with a cloak so opaque I could only cry.
It became the mask of its consumption.
The dream of its new life.
The victorious skin always changing
yet everlasting.
~~~~~~~~~~~
There was a fire last night
that proclaimed news of a newer testament
that drinks tears, lies, vile words, even
the deep fears that linger underneath
the turncoat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I usually lurch away when it calls.
To me, it burns too cold
like a skinwalker lost in a body
devoured by time.
Sometimes I would dream it alive
and it would blaze–a vibrant sun–
more durable than a grave.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
In times of stillness
it would speak like a codicil of some lidless dream
that words could not preserve.
“The time has come to lift your gaze
from the fire’s brightness
and cast shadows of your own.”
The words would echo into oblivion
like stars lost in the swell of the sun’s awakening.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
In these flames I see my
consumption fit and proper.
In its smoke
I am stored away like so many jars
in a broom closet.
Waiting to flee.
Drawing my feet to oppose the floor.
Struggling to reach the door inside these jars
of sealed air.
~~~~~~~~~~
Stories escape the writer’s hand
and pursue me as though I alone held their vigil.
Their very soul.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When indeed these stories have never been told.
They have never found words
to hold though they ceaselessly try.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fires blind nature.
They invest their life in her death.
But the end is always beginning
toward another end.
And the dreams of the untold
are always pursuing another mouth,
another hand,
another mind open.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes I look to the errant expression of hope,
and ask it to bring its flames deeper into my heart.
To burn a clear sense of purpose.
To burn away the fool’s crevice
and enshroud me in its skin of smoke.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes I offer myself to these flames
and know they listen.
Devising my world.
Reality coalesces around their finery
like a tower of glass enclothes a shell of steel.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes I feel the flames send me
words, notes, tones.
Enchantment.
Products of another kind.
Tiny crucibles of earth that burn so brightly
they can blind the sun’s creatures of whimsy.
~~~~~~~~~~
And sometimes, without even thinking,
I peek into these flames
when the smoke peels away for an instant.
There, behind the mask,
is my future.
Our future.
The future.
The present in another world.
Calling out for another mouth,
another hand,
another mind open.
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Longing

~~~~~~~~~~~

Longing, when the eyelids open
upon the deepest stimulus held by your lips
and the amorous kiss becomes my orbit.
~~~~~~~~~
I ache and long to have you with me
so close our skin would melt together
like two candle wicks sharing wax.
I only know that what is of soul
is of longing and ache.
It delivers me to the edge,
the precipice where I look down
and see myself inextinguishable,
longing to be consumed by you.
~~~~~~~~~
And in that glittering place
let me stretch with your heart
at full speed, blind and intent.
Let me dwell in you
until I am so familiar with our union
that it becomes part of my eyes.
With memory full,
we can imagine home,
in the permanence of longing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
So much a part of the other
that the “other” does not exist.
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http://www.wingmakers.us/wingmakersorig/www.wingmakers.com/arrow/chambers/poetry/poem8.shtml
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One of the best methods to transmute energy is through one’s belief system. All beliefs have energy systems that act like birthing chambers for the manifestation of the belief. Within these energy systems are currents that direct life experience. The human instrument is aware of these currents either consciously or unconsciously, and allows them to carry it into the realm of experience that exemplifies its true belief system.
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By cultivating beliefs that expand and transform energy, the human instrument is able to engage energy systems that are nurturing to life in all its myriad forms. When beliefs are clearly defined as preferred states of being, the energy system is engaged in nowness–not in some future time. Now. The energy system becomes inseparable from the human instrument and woven into its spirit like a thread of light. Clarity of belief is essential to engaging the energy system of the belief, and allowing the nurturence of life to prevail in all activities. <<<^^^CLICK HERE TO READ MRE OF THE PHILOSOPHY BEHIND #8
http://www.wingmakers.us/wingmakersorig/www.wingmakers.com/arrow/chambers/indexes/philo.shtml
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WingMakers Music ENERGETIC HEART

Union Like Da song of Whales


Imperishable – Of This Place

2 more poems1 more day of another spiritually clipping Q’s wingz..an binding me infinitly to the ……

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Imperishable

**********
Through this night I have slept little.
My eyes, closed like shutters
with slats that remain open,
wait to invent dreams
of some charred reality.
I sense you, but no weight on my bed.
No shift or creaking other
than my own restlessness.
**********
Wandering words
self-gathered, self-formed,
and released to the night
like a mantra slowly drowned in music.
Your presence grew with the music
devouring it in silence.
You came to me so clear
my senses aroused in electric storms of clarity.
The buzz of mercury lamps
alongside rutted roads,
shedding their weightless light.
***********
In all of this waiting for you
no fortress or foxhole bears my name.
I lay on the Savannah
staring at the sun hoping against hope
it blinks before I do.
My wounded cells,
tiny temples of our mixture,
have weakened in your absence.
I can feel them wail in their miniature worlds.
My feet resist their numbness,
deny them their war.
************
As I lay here alone
waiting to be gathered into your arms,
I ask of you one thing,
remember me as this.
Remember me as one who loves you
beyond yourself.
Who pierces shells, armor, masks,
and everything protecting
your spirit in needless fervor.
Remember me as this.
As one who loves you unmatched
by the deepest channels
that have ever been forged.
Who will love you anywhere and always.
**********
And if you look very closely at my love
you will not find an expiration date,
but instead, the word, imperishable.
**********

Of This Place !

Her heart ran
in the wilds of deserted plains.
Sun-etched land barren of clouds
and singing water.
If she listened closely
her hand would call
and signal its thoughts upon her brow.
But in this place
she could only offer her arms to the sky
like a tree its branches
and a flower its leaves.
********
In this dusty basin,
silence gathered like smoke
clearing the mind of the scoundrel.
The infidel of thoughts.
Blots of yellow leaves and white bark
could be seen hiding in pools of life
surrounded by red rock spires.
Clustered sand monuments held together
by some other life form.
She wasn’t sure.
Perhaps one life is the same as another
only tilted sideways.
Caught from underneath
by some invisible hand that animates
even the coldest stone of this place.
******
A smile emerged and perched upon her face
drinking the sun’s clear ways.
She could spear
a million miles of air in a glance
and send the window of her flesh
into the cloudless sky.
Upon this ocean a hawk sailed ever closer.
She watched the silver speck
spiral overhead dreaming through its eyes.
Feeling the winds gild her wings
in the softest fold of time.
A tree of pine sent its sky roots
deep within the air to weep its sweetness.
She entered,
gliding through branches
to every needle in their factory of air.
************
So strange to feel the pull of earth in flight,
but she knew the antagonism well
in the splendor of this place.
*********
She knew it had settled deep,
lodged like permanent ink
in the heart of her.
Under skin, muscle, bone
it fought the single path.
What madness calls her away?
What dream is stronger than this?
What heart beats more pure?
*********
Of this place,
it is so hard to know which is host
and which is guest.
Which is welcome, which is pest.
Which is found and which is lost.
Which is profit, which is cost.
**********
She gave her prayers
to the skypeople and waited for a cloud–
her signal to leave.
She should return home
before dusk settles in and the golden
eyes peer out against the black code.
In a single breath she held the ancient ways
that never left.
She turned them inside out
and then outside in.
Again and again.
Waiting for her signals in the sky.
If not a cloud…
then perhaps a shooting star.
(Besides, it was too dark for clouds anymore.)
**********
When the first star fell she held her breath
afraid she would miss its spectral flight.
She wondered with whom she shared
its final light.
What other eyes were heaven bound
in that secret moment?
Was this their signal home as well?
And what was it they found
buried so deep in a whisper of light
that none can tell?
**********
She waited with solemn eyes
for more stars to fall,
to gently sweep her away
from the magnets of this place.
If she listened to her hand
it would scratch a sign in the sand for another
to take her place.
It would touch the land
in honor of its grace and wisdom,
and become a tree, rock, hawk, or flower.
~~~~~~~~

http://www.wingmakers.us/wingmakersorig/www.wingmakers.com/arrow/chambers/chamber6.shtml

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The WingMakers are a small team of Sovereign Entities that have designed time capsules that are catalytic in forming a Sovereign Integral perspective. Each time capsule is, in actuality, a selection system that attracts specific entities to utilize their human instrument in wholeness. This develops their sixth and seventh sense, which enables them to learn how to step out of time and the hierarchy铆s control. When they can do this, they can design the synthesis model of existence within terra-earth铆s hierarchical system. These entities will be transforming time-space universes from ladders of consciousness to inclusions of Source Reality. In other words, Source Reality will be extended into time-space universes, and all life forms therein will experience this extension through a new hierarchical structure that is completely aligned with Source Intelligence. What some call “heaven on earth” is merely an echo-realization of this impending future time. What is truly bearing down on the time-space universes is the expansion of Source Reality through the accessibility of Source Intelligence information to all entities regardless of form or structure. Let there be no mistake, however, that the fulfillment of the Primal Blueprint is indeed the direction all entities are traveling. While entities of all levels are bestowed free will within their own realities, they are not, as aspects of Source Reality, given free will to choose their ultimate destiny. The origin of entities is Source Intelligence, and it is Source Intelligence that determines destiny as well as origin. Still, entities are provided tremendous latitude of choices to propel themselves from origin to destiny and re-emerge into an expanded version of Source Reality with a renewed vision of their identity. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Special Note: For a translation of this inspiring philosophy into everyday English, click here. For how the original WingMakers website was strangely changed, click here.

Another Life Carrier MIA

2 poems one page another & life carrier!…..

ANOTHER

One skin may hide another,
I remember this from a poem when I
launched a fire across a field of deadness.

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At least, to me, it seemed dead.
I felt like a liberator of life force
renewing the blistered and dying grasses.
Actually, more weeds than grass,
but nonetheless, the flora had flat-lined.
I peeled back skin with holy flame
and brought everything to black again
as though I called the night to descend.
From blackness will arise a new skin
cresting green architecture from a fertile void.
********
As the flames spread their inviolable enchantment
I saw your face spreading across my mind.
Remember the fire we held?
I hoped it would unfurl a new skin
for us as well.
I still hold this hope.
Forever it will roam inside me
invariant to all transformations and motions.
************
One person may hide another,
but behind you, love is molting a thicker skin
than I can see through.
No flame can touch its center.
No eyes can browse its memory.
I want nothing behind you in wait.
Seconds tick away like children growing
in between photographs.
I will not forget you in the changes.
Cursed with memory so fine
I can trace your palm.
I can inhale your sweet breath.
I can linger in your arms’ weight.
I can hear your exquisite voice
calibrate life with celestial precision.
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One purpose may hide another.
I heard this as the fire died out
to reveal the scent of the wet earth
and growing things.
I could feel my love decompose
returning to the uninhabited realm
where it belongs.
Where all hearts belong when
love is lost, and the code of the mute,
coiled in fists that pound,
reveal the wisdom of another.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Life Carriers
~~~~~~~~~
Life carriers spawn in the primal waters
of a giant embryo.
Their progeny will settle in human dust.
Pieces of clay
with tiny thoughts of flight.
Knife-points veiled in turbid cloaks
that shun the light of a tranquil star.
**************
In the remote wilds the life carriers
emerge and perch upon
the shoulders of gray stones.
They signal their desires to fly,
but their homes are suited
for the comforts of rain and earth.
The sky must wait.
(The dirt companion smiles.)
**********
Circles break.
Barriers overrun.
Life carriers deny their ancient pull
from the ground.
Wings sprout like golden hair
sinuous with nature’s artifice.
Ragged feet are left behind.
The earth replaced with vivid sky.
Gravity shines its menacing stare
to hold them
with assertive hands.
*******
Homeless cages
are left to rot.
To sink behind the groundless sky.
Earthen faces have dropped their smiles
and lost their smell of fresh dirt.
The dream of flight
has invaded somber walls–
life carriers have bounded
to the other side.
There they meet the next rung
of the endless ladder,
and trade their wings for wisdom’s eye.
“““http://www.wingmakers.us/wingmakersorig/www.wingmakers.com/arrow/chambers/poetry/poem5.shtml“““

WingMakers Masthead

The entity model of expression is designed to explore new fields of vibration through biological instruments and transform through this process of discovery to a new level of understanding and expression as a Sovereign Integral. The Sovereign Integral is the fullest expression of the entity model within the time-space universes, and most closely exemplifies Source Intelligence’s capabilities therein. It is also the natural state of existence of the entity that has transformed beyond the evolution/saviorship model of existence and has removed itself from the controlling aspects of the Hierarchy through the complete activation of its embedded Source Codes. This is the level of capability that was “seeded” within the entity model of expression when it was initially conceived by Prime Creator. All entities within the time-space universes are in various stages of the transformational experience and each are destined to achieve the Sovereign Integral level as their Source Codes become fully activated.

Calling forth the perceptions of the entity within the human instrument is the ideal method to access a lasting sensitivity to the Source vibration. This is how an individual can develop the ability to observe Source in all things. It is not only that Prime Creator is within every individual manifestation of energy, but is also the wholeness of life itself. Thus, the principle requires an observance of Source in all ITS diverse forms of manifestation, as well as in the wholeness of life.
Read more bout the philosophy behind this poetry, painting and this music found in chamber 5click here

oNE dAY & mISSING

One Day & Missing

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One Day
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One day,
out of this fleshy cocoon
I will rise like a golden bird of silent wing
graceful as the smoke of a fallen flame.
I will dream no more of places
hidden–secreted away in heaven’s cleft
where the foot leaves no print.
****
One day,
I will walk in gardens holding hands
with my creation and creator.
We will touch one another
like lovers torn by death
to say goodbye.
We will lay in one another’s arms
until we awaken as one
invisible to the other.
********
One day,
I will isolate the part of me
that is always present.
I will dance with it
like moonlight on water.
I will hold it to myself in a longful embrace
that beats perfection
in the hymn of the Songkeeper.
***********
One day,
when I curl away inside myself
I will dream of you
this flesh-covered-bone of animal.
I will yearn to know your life again.
I will reach out to you
as you now reach out to me.
Such magic!
Glory to covet the unknown!
That which is
is always reaching for the self
that cheats appearances.
Who dreams itself awake and asleep.
Who knows both sides of the canvas
are painted, awaiting the other
to meld anew.

Missing
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Facing another evening without you
I am torn from myself
in movements of clouds,
movements of earth spinning
like the sure movement of lava as it rolls to sea.
Yet when I arrive
you are still gone from me
23 footsteps away;
a cluster of punishment.
A bouquet of the abyss.
*******
When I look to the east I think of you
softly waiting for the vines to abdicate
their portion of your heart.
So you can be chiseled out of the matrix
with smooth hammer strokes
from my hands.
Freed of the coal, the black rot
of untouched shoulders,
you can open your eyes again
flashing the iridescent animals,
valiant vibrations of your rich spirit.
**************
Centerpiece of my table
I stare at you in candlelight,
the windows behind, black in their immensity,
only enlarge you.
Making you more of what I miss.
The procession of prophecies
has entered me again
casting doubt in my mind like rain
on dead leaves.
**********
I go among your body
to feel the presence of your heart beating
something golden spun from another world.
You cannot feel me.
I am invisible in all ways to you, but one.
A reflection in the mirror.
Beneath your eyes
you see me dancing away the body.
Dancing away the mind.
Dancing away the incarnations
of my absence.

http://www.wingmakers.us/wingmakersorig/www.wingmakers.com/arrow/chambers/poetry/poem4.shtml
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The worst Sin towards our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them;
that鈥檚 the essence of INHUMANITY

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a qUOTE BY George Benard Shaw
~~~~~喙戔潳喙~~~~~

https://quarksire.files.wordpress.com/2014/06/raven1.jpg

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There are three particular life principles that accelerate the transformational experience and help to align the human instrument with the Sovereign Integral perspective. They are:
1) Universe relationship through gratitude
2) Observance of Source in all things
3) Nuturence of life
There are so many layers of relative truth that if you listen to the language of externals, you will most likely abandon your own power in favor of the proclamation of language. Language is seductive to the ego’s drive for power and control, as well as the mind’s inclination to surrender to, and believe in, the language of externals. It can lure the unsuspecting into believing images and ideas–real or imagined–for the sake of holding individuals in bondage to a lesser truth, or keep individuals supporting the hierarchy when it no longer serves a purpose. The time is fast approaching when the veils of control at all levels of the hierarchy will be rendered obsolete by entities who are destined to pull down the veils and allow sovereign power to prevail over hierarchical power.
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When the individual applies these principles, their life experience reveals a deeper meaning to its apparently random events–both in the universal and personal contexts……..Read more bout the philosophy behind this poetry, painting and this music found in chamber 4.
http://www.wingmakers.us/wingmakersorig/www.wingmakers.com/arrow/chambers/indexes/philo.shtml

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hALF mINE bANDAGES OF THE bEAST

聽frum time capsule 3

***** :: Bandages of the Beast :: ******

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There were many Random Omens

sending olive branches with thorns was

only one of ur repertoire.

You offered me a book

where all the answers lay encoded in some strange dialect.

Symbols Undulating like Serpents restless for food.

~~~

If i was a windbone as a lambent seed

you would still the air, and I would fall into the thicket.

If i yearned for sweet water

you would pass me the bitter cup 馃槮

If i was an injured fawn you would flush me

from the cloister, corner me against cold stone,

and admire my fear

馃槮

~~~~~~~

Everywhere i steer i seek the look of love;

yet love humbles itself like a mannequin

changing its clothes to accomodate the dressmaker.

Underneath there are bandages of the beast.

Underneath there is a tourniquet of deliverance.

But beneath the shell there is Emptiness,

SO DEFIANT!

It is clothed in finery that neither dressmaker nor beast can touch

~~~~~~

YOU have mistaken my search as my soul!

Raking through it for clumps of wisdom,

you have found only what i have lost to you!

Held like rootless dreams

i will vanish in ur touch.

~~~~~

If u pass ur rake over this emptiness

you will feel clumps of my spirit.

You will find me like tiny pieces of聽 Mirror Broken

apart yet still collected in one spot

Still staring ever skyward.

Still reflecting one mosaic image.

Still the accompanist of myself.

~~~~~~~~~~HALF MINE?~~~~~~~~~~~

When I see ur face I know u are Half mine

separated by the utmost care to remember all of you

When I undress my body I see that I am half yours
blurred by sudden flight that leaves
the eye wondering what angels carved in their hearts
to remind them so vividly of their home.
~~~~~~~~
When I see your beauty I know you are half mine
never to be held in a polished mirror
knowing the faithful hunger of our soul.
When I watch your eyes I know they are half mine
tracing a trajectory where sensual virtue is the very spine of us.
When I hold your hand I know it is half mine
wintered in kinship, it circles tenderness
beneath the moon and well of water when the feast is done.
When I kiss your lips I know they are half mine
sent by God’s genealogy to uncover us
in the delicious cauldron of our united breath.
~~~~~~~~~~~
When I hear you cry I know your loneliness is half mine
so deep the interior that we are lost outside
yearning to give ourselves away
like a promise made before the asking.
And when I look to your past I know it is half mine
running to the choke cherry trees
invisible to the entire universe we found ourselves
laughing in sudden flight
eyeing the carved initials in our hearts.
Sparing the trees.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

http://www.wingmakers.us/wingmakersorig/www.wingmakers.com/arrow/chambers/poetry/poem3.shtml

There are three particular life principles that accelerate the transformational experience and help to align the human instrument with the Sovereign Integral perspective. They are:

1) Universe relationship through gratitude
2) Observance of Source in all things
3) Nuturence of life

When the individual applies these principles, their life experience reveals a deeper meaning to its apparently random events–both in the universal and personal contexts.

Universe Relationship through Gratitude
This is the principle that the Universe of Wholeness represents a collective intelligence that can be personalized as a single Universal Entity. Thus….to read more bout the philosophy of chamber 3 click here.

聽well, of course anyone that really knows me an my story for the last 5 years well, knows this one is directed at my lovely “blueangelwolf” once again sorry to say

馃槮

is what it is.although nothing is half mine 馃槮 especially the money i spent, and time and all MY LOVE …yeah right …MY LOVE…what a crime聽 馃槮 over an out frum Q

 

WingLess Flight Chamber 2

Time Capsule # 2 Believe it er not!

The WingMakers are a small team of Sovereign Entities that have designed time capsules that are catalytic in forming a Sovereign Integral perspective.

This well this internet well鈥..is like one big giant time capsule for me鈥

so enjoy the poetic piece here and the music to go along with it frum time capsule 2鈥.

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Each time capsule is, in actuality, a selection system that attracts specific entities to utilize their human instrument in wholeness. This develops their sixth and seventh sense, which enables them to learn how to step out of time and the hierarchy铆s control. When they can do this, they can design the synthesis model of existence within terra-earth铆s hierarchical system.
There is encoded in each of the time capsules, a system of languages that can lead the individual to their core expression. It is hidden because it is so powerful. And we will only lead the worthy to this power.

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The Language of Innocence ….

When a river is frozen,
underneath remains a current.
When the sky is absent of color
beneath the globe another world comes to light.
When my heart is alone
somewhere another heart beats my name
in code that only paradise can hear.
**********
Is my heart deaf
or is there no one
who can speak the language of innocence?
Innocence, when words
suffer meaning and gallop away in its presence.
I have seen it.
Felt it.
I have loosened its secrets in the blushing skin
when upturned eyes witness its home
and never turn away.
And never turn away.
***********
There is this world
of slumbering hearts and hollow love,
but it cannot carry me to daylight.
My craving is so different
and it can never be turned away.
Temptress Vision
************
A temptress vision has encircled me like a
willful shadow of a slumbering dream.
Is it the powerful light of purpose?
If I squint with all my strength I may see it.
Always must it be inside of me
like a pilot fish inseparable from its host.
It fearlessly drinks my essence.
Such a bitter taste I muse.
Spit it out upon your table of perfection.
Compare this grain of sand with your galaxy.
This spire of sorrow with your deepest eye.
If my callous mind can see you,
there are no interventions.
No pathway away.
Convergence.
************
I am a lock-picker.
A tunnel-digger.
A fence-cutter of the wicked watchers.
A traveler that has sought
the mystery that alludes all but the outlaws.
The wild-eyed, unrelenting fools of purpose
that remain outside the laboratory of wingless flight.
**************
You are the eternal Watcher
who lives behind the veil of form and comprehension,
drawing forth the wisdom of time
from the well of planets.
You cast your spell and entrain all that I am.
Am I just a fragment of your world?
A memory hidden by time?
A finger of your hand driven by a mind
unfamiliar with skin.
Touch yourself and you sense me.
Visions wild with love.
Splendor that beckons like a secret whisper of gladness
spread on the winds by an infinite voice.
The sound of all things unified.
I am part of that voice.
Part of that sound.
Part of that secret whisper of gladness.
******************
This limitation must end in lucid flesh.
The dream of sparks ascending
quickening the cast of hope.
Avoid the brand of passivity
the signs complain.
Shun manipulation before you are stained.
Spurn all formula and write new equations
in the language of sand.
**************
Heed no other,
nor listen to the seduction of holy symbols
standing before the windows of truth.
Define from a foreign tongue.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
These are the battered keys
that have led me to unlocked doors.
Doors that collapse at a mere breath
and behind which
lay more pieces to collect for the Holy Menagerie.
The never-ending puzzle.
~~~~
All the stars in the sky
recall the purpose of your hallowed light.
Burn a hole through the layers.
Peel all the mockery away.
Enjoin the powers
to answer this call:
Bring the luminous vision
hidden behind the whirling particles
of the Mapmaker.
Let it enter me
like a shaft of light that enters a cave’s deepest measure.
Ancient fires still burn in these depths.
Who tends them?
What eyes are watching?
Waiting.
Waiting for time’s flower to bloom.
To submerge in the relentless subtlety
that moves beyond my reach
with a jaguar’s stealth.
To dream of elder ways
that leap over time
and leave behind the puzzle of our making.
~~~~~~
O’ temptress vision
you steal my hunger for human light.
If there is anything left to hollow
let it be me.
If there is anything left to cage
let it run free.
If there is anything left to dream
let it be our union.

******************

http://www.wingmakers.us/wingmakersorig/www.wingmakers.com/arrow/chambers/poetry/poem2.shtml

QdM3xsMxrTTxySQEA4Ks2

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if’n ur interested in learnin bout the philosophy behind this poem click on the link here

http://www.wingmakers.us/wingmakersorig/www.wingmakers.com/arrow/chambers/indexes/philo.shtml

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an one always needs a back up plan ya know!

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https://quarksire.wordpress.com/category/wingmakers-ancient-arrow/