The Nearing
Pools of Innocence
( The Shimmering )
Quiet was The Mockingbird, as I draw nearer, and The Look in Her Eyes told Me of Her Purpose, as Sentinel, before Whom, All shall Pass . . . with a Nod of Understanding, I move closer to The Edge, and the sudden Stillness, takes My Breath Away . . . The Stream, as if told by Nature to do So, slows to a Halt in front of Me, becoming a Ribbon of Glass . . . and Now, finally within Reach, I kneel down beside a Pool of pristine Clarity, and gaze into It’s Secrets, and as I begin to fathom The Reasons, There, slowly rising to The Surface of Knowledge, up from The Depths of Wisdom, emerging phantom-like, to rest upon The Windows of My Eyes, I see, Her Face, Again . . .
from Book II, The Sword ( Second Sound ) The Eleventh DoveTale – The Chariots of The Sun