Space between

We lingered just a bit too long
in the space between the dreams,
searching for the meaning
of images seen,
the man who was there then wasn’t
with black pants and white billowing shirt
watching as I tried in vain to explain
where something was,
and how to get to somewhere down the road
but he said nothing,
just gazing at me with a blank stare
and then disappeared in to thin air,
I remember saying to myself at that moment
it was then that I knew I was crazy,
perhaps a line to be used
when white sheets lay before me beckoning
and the pen lifted like a sword
to smash the lingering feelings away,
there is no insanity in those spaces
where water flows and skies lay in repose,
waiting patiently for a solitary view
to calm and soothe
the disrupted mind from its chatter.
The energy was emanating
from every crevice
and the night lay heavy
as my heart skipped its beat,
salvation will not be had in the dreams
for the reality is truly known,
and nightmares once reserved for fever
now slip in unwanted,
and the mind plays tug of war with thoughts.
I see myself floating serenely
as wave upon wave carries me towards the destination
and the light comes haltingly when needed
to the burdened psyche,
but words found in the spaces between heal
and that for now
is just enough to see me through.

Temporary measure

Creating our visions
we run our thoughts out
where space lay waiting,
blank to full
with fleeting things,
memory and beauty
often temporary.
Will someone see and smile,
pluck the moment for later days
to ponder upon
before setting free
the emotion felt
upon that first glance.
Washing away with the light of day,
the yesterday we held gently
and the wonder felt slips away
forgotten in the maze
of a tumultuous mind,
we start again
creating with our tools
the endless beauty
that flows.
Over again beneath blue skies,
as winds whisper their tales
and the need to fly above to gaze
at all we create
calls so loudly
we cannot but help to listen,
drifting away in our senses
to become what we are destined to be.

Slicing the night

Standing tall
the arms reach for the sliver above,
white orb hiding in the shelter of clouds
through indigo dreams
I feel the essence of peace.
Fog hangs idly by
moisture drops off edges of reason
and footprints left by stealthy felines
seen for but a moment
before drifting into the mist,
never gazing back before emptiness sits
in her wake.
In places of mid-waking
the mind in tumultuous states
neither here nor there
just heavy and burdened
with the lingering memory of this endless darkness.
Searching for the solitude of being
as the peace stays steps ahead,
teasing to follow where light lingers
between the cracks of the maddening mind
bent on the softness of a feathered dream,
each step taken to reach the end
where calmness hums like a lullaby.