Rushing streams

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Bright lights
reflections
of a dream
clothed in
mace and saffron

A grinding down or
a cascading flow
that made Me who I am .

Touch the burls
and the burrs
Remove them , if you dare
What emerges
could be
a vision
Yet only to your eyes

Winds bring scents
Fragrances from
faraway places
and close by bowers

dark and shaded are the
pathways of the mind
Deep in the woods I walk alone.
little sounds,
My familiars arrive
and slither hither

Will you partake of the surfeit?
Gluttony begets
and Yet
The night cloaks
One
in Stygian depths

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