once in a blue moon
you find your magick wand
already worn from the previous owner
the handle has a place for your thumb
the tip is rounded and smooth
by this you know
it was left by someone
for you.
Propped up against
a fallen piece of driftwood
the moon lights a path to it.
potion in a bottle
cradled by the sand
lay next to it.
once in a blue moon
something from your thermos speaks to you
Mexicans lurk behind trees
flying silver goats
cross your path in the night.
A walk in the forest of wands
to no where
the ocean makes a sound
soothing you to melt.
Once in a Blue Moon you make a choice
dissolving everything you thought to know
changing you into who you knew
a long time ago.
the end
AF
The simple, small basket of milk and fruit fed like a feast for the mortal Gods, and as both rest amongst the spacious sky, free and immense, arranged for solitary eyes and the wandering few, the awareness fades, the travelers explore, and the forest becomes a world of chance; the path invaded, the foreign feet excused, and laughter prevails as a cautionary premise of future delights: deliberately close and forewarning, the poised and protecting staff guided The Trespassers through the hollow darkness, one vigilant, the other perspicuous, and the immediate realization and memory of the glorious celestial body, presented to both, a blessed allowance of togetherness and joy, offered permissively, only once in a 'lune bleue'.
ReplyDeleteresponding to another
ReplyDeletewith intimate behavoir
opening to a place
of pleasure.
af