THE VITAL PULSE

Commence intense words as artful repose dense with sweat of stars

I`ve danced myself into every ocean, been at the apex outter-point counterpoised
living lives less wonderous without you, and so soar, above a path etched in the memory of water.

I have never been navigated by the stars...like a migration, I find my bed...with
patience have awaited dreams.  It had been nearly ten years that I had not had dreams. I waited and waited for you...it cannot be said I had a choice.  If I did I would have
brought the diamond canopy of night into my body and watched over your sleep a better way indeed to dream.

Living sand, the shape of boats...reminding the shore....counting waves of wonder....

How long did eternity first take, the first time to happen I would have said I would have waited that long for that long...if it would have proven anything

Psyonic symphonic systemic philharmonic, soul jaunts with you, within you I am seeking
completion, at least part of it. How is anything ever any more than less of a mystery without us attempting to understand the beyond within that place where our lumialities evanescent and illuminant, merge into a wellspring into one another.

I was born in an image of God, (meaning with powers creative) I was made an imaginary aspect to belong with and to, and there I have been every field as well...this unspoken domain of invention, so filled with the interventions of love... not as myself but as that which I am otherwise bound to in form and formality...wedlocked to the stream of god`s imagination...where I am always an incomplete part.

How is longing so short lived...I would demand nothing but the discernment of a divine
force to make my ignorance less triumphant...trumpet teal tantra tetherbound
tenacity...words.

In the end it is memory that absconds the night.  In the end love is the vital pulse, cast somewhere deep in the heart.