DREAM II

My untamed wanderer's spirit

could not comprehend 

the hidden language of your

Angel's heart, sister.

Yet, my seeking eyes read your

own, each one by turn 

beaming a different light

as twin Moons,

their paths and phases ever

in defiant discord,

calling forth divergent tides

to the secret shores

of your thoughts, mingling into

an ominous rhythm

that trammelled your sky's blue

with stifling echoes

of peril and perdition,

that cast you, torn and bleeding, 

upon softest ivory sands.

Phrases hovered upon your lips

as Spring's swallowtails,

stopping upon your tongue as 

notes frozen in unyielding Silence.

And I, who worship each spirant

as a Universe,

threading sound and import

onto an endless strand of rapture,

assayed in vain to construe

your muteness.

In dreams, the Silence of your circle

floods my veins. 

Light and darkness alike are

our prison house, sister.

I would know which one is 

the greater Gift.

© 2016 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: DUES NENES

Source: commons.wikimedia.org

Artist: Joan Brull i Vinyoles

DREAM

This Day rose grey, greyer than

the Spring that was

your spirit's Winter, sister.

Once, we were an assemblage

of Hope's declaration,

her own beaming bouquet

of blossom and melody,

delight and dawn, thriving amid

thwarted aspirations

and granite fumes branded souls

effused in an eternal

hecatomb to their gilded God.

Life prevailed, flourished, revelled,

in a sullied realm

Death had claimed, for we lived

our circle's Spring

as carefree cascades of colour

in the blackened brume,

impatient to glean every jewelled

hue of the Season's bounty.

Yet, a malevolent moment stole

our Sun, eclipsed the moon,

quenched the stars,

bidding the bleak air blight your

blood, stifle your flame.

Solitary feet tread a path that

once seemed evergreen,

strewn with shades and strands

of our Spring, spectres that

comfort one who will not submit

to the dark. A smoky veneer

stains the mourning garb that is

my second skin.

I now seek vernal tints in words,

sister. I shall return to sleep,

to dreams of Iris and Lark,

Rillet and Coral.

© 2016 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: DREAM

Source: commons.wikimedia.org

Artist: Joan Brull i Vinoyles

MEMORIES II

 

Twilight's purples softly steal over

spattered hedgerows,

creeping over spangled meadows

into deepest green shadows. 

Her somnific murmur

betwixt a wisp and a whisper

lulls sated bees into slumber.

Sun-dipped irises sighing sink into

the thrumming gloaming,

when a sudden draft tears into the

blue-grey haze of my reverie,

snapping the silver-gold thread 

that binds my spirit to a

distant Springtide memory of lilac

breaths and wild rose wreaths.

This Season's rainbows shed tears;

your unheard cries are

my clarion call, your graves mark

the miles upon my course. 

Your broken dreams I shall gather,

for to frame new bastions

beyond my bleeding walls.

Do your souls haunt forsaken paths

that beckoned beneath

cyan skies of sunshine and promise?

May that which you spurned in life

embrace you in death. 

I shall seek the voice of the Muse

amid our ruins.

© 2016 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: A GIRL WEARING A GARLAND OF WILD ROSES

Source: www.liveinternet.ru

Artist: George Lawrence Bulleid

SKY II

Secrete the waxing Moon

behind your plumage, sage one,

sacred bird of Athena,

you, who read the dark to all

who blunder sightless,

lightless, through its labyrinths.

Selene's Springtide strophe sails

upon sapphire waves 

beneath Nyx's spangled veils,

surging, rippling, cascading, plays

amid merging drapes

of blessed darkness and light.

Such colours the heavens sparkle

upon this vernal Night!

Nameless hues of distant Springs 

Iris would weave into

her own resplendent archway

mock my pallid muteness.

Nay, my words shall not desecrate

this sapphire splendour

showering argent parings upon

my prone form through

the goddess' languid leafage.

My stillness I offer to you, Chloris.

Silver shivers abrade silenced eyes 

awaiting brine and sleep;

peace and repose amid fragments

of brightest blue ballasting 

white-winged skeins; flight through

the calm of deceiving dreams.

© 2016 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image source: commons.wikimedia.org

SKY

Here, Light does not take wing;

each moment stands

unmoving, shackled to a shadow, 

a burden of mundane tides

destined to merge into oblivion,

that eternal resting place

of sorrow unseen

and broken melodies forsaken,

for they meet no heartstrings. 

Springtide cast a wounded thrush

with cheery cherry blossoms

into my cupped palms,

its song adrift in perfumed breezes,

weeping upon vernal colours.

Tears and Sun

veiled the baleful borderland

where bloodied wing merged into

papery pink petals, a tender kinship

of waning life threads.

My reddened palm, sweet passerine,

was your Plain of Death,

a fitting interim nest of unwilling

human flesh and blood that laments 

every breath and beat

of Life's pulse. Solace awaits in the

flight of my soul. 

Wherefore would one such as I 

incarnate into the tangible?

The spirit seeks its likeness, it is said.

Shall you and I, gentle ave,

evermore hold the sky in wing and eye?

© 2016 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image source: bienvenuechezhug.centerblog.net

Artist: Basil Ede

LIGHT II

Upon the allaying course of Night,

my solivagant spirit

blooms beneath the radiance

of countless faraway suns, 

their brilliant gold rendered silver

upon the path of Time.

What nepenthe do nocturnal skies

rain, lending the astrolater's

soul a glow that nor Eos nor Chloris

shall ever know, that nor Day

nor Summer shall ever bring forth? 

What rune does the Great Alchemist

chant upon magical herbs

sole He could cull from boundless

stelliferous plains?

Does He tread slower upon a darker,

quieter Earth, looking upon

celestial shrines tracing the eons

in deference to the gods, to Eternity?

A winged moment descends

from a moonbow into my vessel, 

anointed with taintless milky pearl

and deepest violet balm.

Of woven Light I drink, of primal rays

that cast Life's Flame

into my purest being.

© 2016 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: MOONLIT MOUNTAIN LANDSCAPE

Source: von-zezschwitz.de

Artist: Georg Emil Libert

BETWEEN A MEMORY 
AND A DREAM

 

In the space of a moment between

a memory and a dream,

opens a sky as ancient cameo glass.

Blissful, layered blues

throw softly swelling clouds

of opaline white into sharp relief,

this flowing tableau

shining into malachite depths 

of a leaf-glutted lake, an image of Life

burned into green fused

with azure, purest turquoise through

eyes that once believed, 

a shade unalloyed by shadows.

Once, my eyes followed

its pale primrose Sun, as early vernal

draughts cooled my lungs,

every cell sated with breath and fire,

as Spring declared Herself 

in feasts of colour, fragrance and song.

Blessed waters cradled

a soul asparkle as young shoots that

could scarce contain their joy

at the sight of an eternal union upon

emerald ripples.

Upon a swallowtail's wings my spirit

flew into that airy shrine, 

into the merging of falling and mirrored

Light, of Source and ephemeral vessel,

a sacred expression

of Time's design that ordains every

moment equal to the Flame

that sparked the Great Circle into being.

© 2016 Lily's Verse 

Lilium Candidum

Image: TIGER SWALLOWTAIL BUTTERFLY ON WATERLILIES 

Source: www.marylouiseholt.com

Artist: Mary Louise Holt