Waking from the night so loudly shown,
The fears that I lost in yesteryears of mine,
The drama I left and in meditations sat,
As windless cold upon my skin settled.
My breathing slowed as the air hurried in,
In the depth of my chest, they stayed,
And exhaled slowly through my mouth,
Subconscious I felt when seventh I counted.
All touches to outward life in me ceased,
And all thoughts and images from inside erased,
The inward eyes felt the meditating soul,
Where emptiness and silence for meanings fought.
Then the meditating mind slowly felt a dawn,
Darkness erased and light rays like arrows came,
The source of light came with no fiery crown,
A simple chariot of light by horses of fairness dragged.
From which she came to me and smileless she asked,
“Why blind thyself in verses so fantastically pure?.
Love-filled thou live in imaginations so vivid,
What inspires thou to such magnificence in a wild world?”.
The inward eyes of mine in a feeling of romance sparkled,
Such was the grace of the angelic figure that spoke,
Her face though to my eyes in the aura of her unseen,
Deeper and deeper my soul stretched to contain her glow.
Then to her, I said, “An autumn once colored my dreams,
And through those dreams, I silently weaved a shawl,
The threads were two-ply one of mine and another of an unknown,
Such were the perfections in the weaving as all it spread was love.”.
I looked in my experience with life to find a metaphor to describe,
Found none as no love in such purity existed ever I have known,
I said, “Once that loom became empty and the shawl brightened,
I took it to a girl I dreamt about from childhood and gifted.”.
“I looked hard to see that face with love filled but blinded stood,
In the wilderness of the world were my life unsorted fell apart,
In that pain about gladness with her, I wrote, in my gladness I felt,
About any pain I can erase from her life in verses I wrote.”.
“Such verses reached you, Oh’, the one from a world to me unknown,
And here you are blessing my meditation with thy aura and speech.”.
The figure to the chariot turned and the horses as if ready shook,
Then to be she turned and said “Love of mine isn’t it what you wished?”.
Then I saw that face which ended my romantic meditation,
The face of Little Boss in all glory that brightened my love.
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