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An Open Gate: Speak ‘Friend’ and Enter!
The need that tames the flames of inner fire
may seed ten thousand ripples, may be more.
Desire to feed the furnace of desire
creates from dust more than there was before.
Those letters [l]inked on parchment or those which
on pixel tell~tale tra[n]ce dance in the brain
may early, late, both stimulate, enrich,
cross reference, cross reference again.
Rich pitch one hears switch spheres have ever known
they knew they knew before tuned undertone
vibrating through the Universal, sown
as echo coeval with the wind thats blown
along the way as day and night advance ~
or is it coexist in parallel ~
with worlds dreams glimpse perhaps when changeling Chance
weird timeline opens till dawn's waking bell.
What counts is ways the wave bands interlink
from infra violent through the ultra read
judgmental values fade, flushed down Life's sink,
the Pattern counts, how waft and web are spread
within the flow itself should make one think
there is no past, no present, no ahead,
as Time can rhyme the span, at Man must wink ~
as [s]he's from Judge to Judgement, spinning, led.
The air we breathe with life must seethe and how
that interacts to marshal facts is strange,
coincidence may shape both 'here and now'
and still instill, fulfill, more scope, more range
without the trammels and the platitudes
which most repeat ~ both low and high ~ as each
delays, downplays unusual attitudes,
won’t glow in flow with currents out of reach.
This flow is pattern icing on the cake
the poet bakes it takes the time to write,
which whirls around, spurns sight and sound to rake
no line dividing time, space, day or night.
Thus time itself appears conveyor belt
on belt 'die Welt' drives on at different speeds,
some contradictory, some helter-skelt
to feed the need to feed the need to seed
an echo which upon an unknown date
in turn may stimulate discovery
of what once known ~ unlocking open gate
calling upon the inner eye to see...
the need that tames the flames of inner fire
to seed ten thousand ripples, may be more,
desire to feed the furnace of desire
from doom creating more than bloomed before.
© Jonathan Robin written 19 April 2005 revised 11 November 2006 and 27 January 2008
Jonathan ROBIN
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