Noctivagant Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

Wandering through time un’ked
all matter illuminates mind’s mirth
seeding itself ostensibly spun
traversing and weaving nights aclinic line
daubing the purity of and aligning
my thoughts; making way
for that moment
when I knew the rituals
of life’s residuary doorways
and welcomed forward murmurings
lisped in and through that rare noetic
like all pursuivants; thoughts suspired
the stars, and this transient seeds half tilt
enamoured by time’s opened arms
by what warm and reaching palms
of silent muses and their recumbent verse
stole into something of my heart
of night, or birth; suddenly unified
through thought’s doorways
onto and off of my fingertips
as the ghosts around that potter’s wheel
turned by my youth filled hands