Stripped bare, my thoughts,
became a danger to my being.
Love, hate, akin to two trees,
striving to win against a hurricane.
The Oak of love dressed
as a sentinel of its forests creation
The yew a depicter of hate
furnished the killing long bow.
Dreams become so real
when awakened to their reality.
A canvas of oils left to warp
in the sun of my mistrust.
Dainty maidens crinoline flows
and hoops spreading the load
Hour glasses weave in and out,
crazed out of the visions reach.
Touched where no-one could move
a stillness of the universes mind.
Captured by the eternal artists
colours on still canvas.
Tell me in quiet tones,
where are we that the sun shines?
If this is a dream state,
I implore you to awaken me.
Comments
Love, hate, akin to two trees,
I like this construction of yours
though i cannot be specific about what you actually meant
Love, hate, akin to two trees,
striving to win against a hurricane.
Chiori
Thank you for your response, there is a very thin line between love and hate not sure if the emotions are not tied together, in life we have so many things to decide, most times the line is fuzzed but this is just a thought or two to make you think also.
Thanks again will talk later as it is near 1am and my bed time,
Yours Ian ..
there is a very thin line between love and hate
there is a very thin line between
love and hate
rich and poor
poet and non poet
spiritualist and athiest
wallower and waffler
know all
and
know FA
there is
there is a very thin line between
Ian and me
at times we are one
at other times we are two
Ian me and not you
there is always a
THICK LINE TOO
Loved
No matter what thickness the lines are, we are always our own being, survivors of for ever and finding ourselves in this now.
This now is a transient place, betwixt yesterday and tomorrow.
There in a time we cannot measure we exist, or do we, what of our being.
Oh great! we have a reference point for all things, our being and the existence of everything, in less than a blink of an eye.
As an electron we can say that it exists but can never know where it is.
Even in our physical being we are a load of atoms strung together in an evolved mass, a pattern in a universe of patterns.
Go well young Bard that our now's have coincided is good, and we can enjoy the company of this now,
Yours Ian..