And the bell tolled in
  ascertained moments,
    as the moon
      rounded gold dust,
   surrendering
             ashes to infinity*

there are no last chances
       in surmised sunrises

Pen'd the most refined poetry

    whilst dreamily sleeping,

like fancy musings in the haze

    of lustrous paradisal ponds,

   it dissipated on the horizon

i cried symbolical tears

     for this miscarriage

  of poetic reverie's injustice,

all i could recollect

   'twas written neath

      the grand oak tree

as starlings sat silently gazing,

    held their boisterous song

  whilst i eagerly scribbled,

& paused to delight in the majesty

  amidst sterling skies' misted allegory

the moon was abundantly ripe

    seasoned of versed enlightenment,

as it loftily floated towards clouds' spell,

   'twas something profoundly reverent

    about life, death and baby's breath,

translation ascended the sweetly scented ether,

           ...the essence of it lingers still

To live life in intensive clarity
you must prepare yourself a lonely house.
A friend or three, of course. Perhaps a spouse
or three, as well, though even they won't see
how deep the silent spring that feeds your soul.
Intensity, in truth, is rarely loud
or boastful; more like one who's been allowed
perspective broad enough to see the whole.
Many come to visit, few will stay.
Some believe one lesson will suffice
until they understand in full the price,
the cost it takes to find and walk your Way.
For wisdom's earned not doing as you're bid
by those who knew much better than you did.

For Allen*

Listen

Listen  oh heart
                           to the mystery, to
the breeze dancing trees, to the
silent ripples that cross the quiet lake

go within where they go, oh heart
go to the shore where wisdom awaits you
tread the circumference
honouring
                  honouring each discovered treasure
when you find them you will know and embrace them oh heart

they will feed you
they will be simple

MChallis @ 2015