David Lacey

Rookie - 287 Points (2/3/87 / Middlesbrough)

Thirteen Treasures - Poem by David Lacey

Watching as the shadow's stretch across the plains,
A silhouette by any name,
As the sun god lays down upon the hilltop,
Radiating the valley with a gesture of his palms.

The moon goddess in her silver grace,
Race's down by the riverside, reflecting in pool's of tears
Every fear we've tried to hide,
Push back along the way.

Without a lie, in the most honest of truth's,
Was the revealed the proof of unison,
Nothing to exist without all as one,
As power resides in the heaven's,
It lives, breathes within the heart of man.

Look into the eye's of the beast,
Primal natures suppressed by a society that feed's the history books it's king's and queen's.

Below as above, above as below,
A celestial screening of all we know,
All we could ever know.

Born of the one, into the form of your empowering,
Your imprisonment, it's not a gift you should resent.

Born of the star's, reflected in nightshade, born aloft upon the wind, drifting, shifting within the sands of the earth who may nurse it.

Born to Father the spheres of lunacy, born to shine down upon another plain, never any higher, nor set to sink to any depth, only the wind, your every breathe, presence within your shell.

Perfection torn as we break our bond's with the land, torn earth from fire, through devotion, in measure, from the sun tear pleasure, know the truth that you seek at your will.

To posses at once with all, the glory of unison, clarity in perception of all things unknown, of all thing's known you shall master.

Force of force's, over comer of all, in all circumstance of penetration, In this manner the first kiss of life was flown down within meditation, pathways concealed to us, no one to guide you in the unknown, yet by process, all shall be shown, as we realise that we are one, one in essence, one in love, one split into a third, this the wisdom, held from us, will reveal home truth's unheard.

Thirty three birds rest in the sky overheard, still, against tempest winds, watching as the child, awakes, slips straight back into his routine,

Thirteen treasures concealed within lucid dreams
For you to cease,


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Poem Submitted: Sunday, October 9, 2005

Poem Edited: Saturday, October 22, 2005


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