high in The Willows of Remember

 

 

The Ivy,  and The Dove

 

 

 

as Time’s Wake

 draws its Shadow,  across

The Corridors of Her Heart,

She looks to The Universe,

upon Her Celestial Sea,

a Nocturnal Velvet

of Her Dominion,

toward The Shores of

Avalon,  toward Her Sunrise,

      a shimmering,  and distant,  Cyan Sky . . .

She remembers,  Echoes of Days,  and Nights,

Long Ago,  when Her Fireflies laughed at The Moon,

as They walked as One,  along The Path to KnowWhere,

quietly regarding Their Reflection in Pools of Innocence, 

Windows of Each Other’s Eyes,  in Their Secret Eden,

under The Gaze of a Mockingbird,  Their Sentry,

before whom All shall pass,  She remembers,

when They danced,  across The Heavens,

when They sailed across The Sea of Glass,

when They made Love in The Fires of Creation,

when Their Whispers in The Morning ignited The Suns

of Skies Beyond,  when,  from Their Blessed Union was born

The Light of The Millennia,  Eons Ago,  She remembers,  and waits,

as Always,  at The Point of Eternity,  for The Return,  of Her Love,  Again,

Yes,  She remembers,  a Time before Memory became The Well of Fallen Tears,

She remembers The Days before Infinity cried,  The Days before The Music died,

She remembers,  and lights a Candle,  and smiles,  longing for Ever Still,

Yes,  She remembers,  and as Always, 

      She will . . .

 

 

 

 

from Book III,  The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Eighth DoveTale – The Bridge of Dreams

 

 

 

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Her River of Light

 

 

The Wings,  of Grace

  

 

and far,  far away,  in a Land of Endless Grace,  with a Night of Ten

 Thousand Suns,  The Eyes of Heaven cease Their Vigil,  to witness,  and to

     wonder of this Promenade of Eden,  this Choreography of Paradise . . .

 and with The Majesty of Swans,  The Mother of Dawn slowly raises

      Her Hand to brush the tears from Her Face,  and nods Her Head . . .

The Angelic Warrior,  Soldier of Virtue,  without name or number,

gracefully turns His Mien of Valor to face His Legion of Stars,  Her

Children of The Clouds . . . scanning the Night Sky,  on His Boots of

Yellow Fire,  with The Power of Infinite Love,  thundering as The Roar

 of Lions through His Soul,  He lifts His Sword of Truth,  and points toward

 Destiny,  a brilliant blue Planet of The Sea,  and,  as a Golden Wind,  as an Echo, 

     He whispers . . .

*   *   *

The Light,  of The Millennia,

cast,  from a Distant Fire,

roam,  It will,  for Ever,

      The Path,  of My Desire . . .

 *   *   *

and The Light of a Candle,

 borne from The Heart of a Child,

borne from a Sea of Glass,  reflects

 on His gleaming Blade of Honor,  and

       flies through The Windows,  of Her Eyes . . .

and,  as if The Skies of Heaven were to crack

      from the Intensity of Her Love,  She smiles,  Again . . .

 and within The Time of A Wink,  and The Gift of A Promise,

The Chariots of The Sun fly away on Her twighlight Path,  spiriting Them,

       Guardians All,  on Their Voyage to The Sea,  a Voyage of Kings,  on Her River,  of Light . . .

 

 

 

from Book I,  The Ring ( First Light) The Sixth DoveTale – The Grace of Swans ( conversion )

and

from Book III,  The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Eleventh DoveTale – The Whisper of Fulfillment