Thursday, April 17, 2008

The Indigo Tide

There is no written record.
            When it happened is a mystery.

Perhaps the stars aliened.
            Perhaps they reached a critical mass.

Before returning.
            Shattering in to thousands, perhaps, millions of pieces.

Birthed to this Tara.
            To carry out the future.

They know not of.
Until they dream…


K.J.K. 04-17-08


Intaglio

Strum, guitar.
Play a tune.
Let it drift in and out of real time.

Tempo up beat.
Think of a pretty girl.
The way her hair moved.

Aura of motion.
Sunlit spring day.
Gentle breeze.

No one else around for miles and miles.
Smiles and kisses.
Etched upon the halls of memory.

K.J.K.  04-17-08

What Is To Be

Blue Angel sings once again.
She dances through the darkness of night.
Lights up this place of dreams.

For this is the moment we have all waited for.
Like Cubs fans waiting for the 'Series.
It's time to dance with an Angel.

Not to music.
But to life.
That - which is still to come.

For the new prophesy is ready to be inked.
Sealed in wax that is our lives.
Committed to memory.

Verbal then written.
Law to legend.
Legend to myth.

Then pass in to the twilight.
When the next one.
Arrives.

K.J.K. 04-17-08

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