in a recognizable fashion
diverting your attention
with penetration eyes of compassion.
Are you telepathic and
A prophet, a visionary,
a fatidic friend?
A Delphian Oracle transcending the sixth dimension?
Reaching out with starry eyes
for some palpable magick in a
clairvoyant witchlike companion?
Look no further you Runic Sorcerer.
Standing in your presence is a
terrifyingly casual High Priestess,
constantly gallivanting around in disguise.
Tremulous dictation conceals the
powerful strength hidden in the
Pulling apart your reality.
Ripping and stretching the
sinew of your thoughts.
Forget trying to know the Truth.
It forever changes.
Flows like the mighty stream.
It pulverizes to smooth the grey rocks sometimes.
Tomorrow perhaps it will glide
delicately across the beaten pebbles and boulders,
caressing them gently
and cooing them into submission.
The tides often change.
Delight in the scent of the
purple flowers dangling nearby
before they wither and tangle
into a decrepit mess.
Savor it now.
Tomorrow is too late.