Phoenix
by Dale J. Sprague
Op. 7 RS, BD
With these variations on a theme, the focus of feminine form is portrayed..but it is from the radiant splendors and beauty divines in everything and everyone that this work is drawn, and to which this work is dedicated
Proem
Often the title to one's character, beauty of skin is instant pleasure, and even though it disappears with the blink of an eye, many endeavor, or hope to forever keep, beauty skin deep. While such possession is but illusion, such illusion often prevails for the celebrity of light..until heart awakens, seeing much deeper, a radiant beauty much longer, through day or night
Written in concert with Michael Coffey illustrations.
1 When Beauty's lines are mostly balanced, when bold strokes of contour are few and controlled, and when peculiarities are distinctive, yet contrasted and complemented well by all else, then the basics of beauty skin deep has been well met. Then one day, someone young hesitates, someone older stops. A man suddenly turns. Repeatedly, many want to look, to stare..to peep or glance, hunting for chance opportunity to touch and feel what mind has perfected. And then, one day again, she looks closer into the mirror to see what so many value, what they need, what some figment of mind desires. And perhaps at first, only for play, mind and hand take imperfections away, but most assuredly, what Beauty's power has gained surely will stay. And later, upon another day again, Beauty's gain has become very apparent!..that what has been given and improved is most clearly a power, a vision inspires, a craving to touch what cannot be touched creates desire. Yet, delicate as silk is the web of Beauty's nature. Only pleasure can be given from its treasure! Pleasure for pleasure's sake does each strand intertwine with another, draping closely..falling, strictly conforming to every contour of Beauty's form. Pleasure of flesh. Desires rushing, blood flushing. Days too short, nights too long, and from wants unending, do endless cravings beget cold objects within. Spirit's unrest, no place to rest. Mind and spirit, forever restless
2 And when the eye has been deceived by line and shade, the power of Beauty is quite apparent. And so..as without so within, does spirit become so formed. What has been given freely has become a divine right, a power..a lever, a tool for those especially, who wish to know only by suggestions of reflected light. A broken moon is made of stone. And for mind's vast space, wanting and desiring so much to be like itself, the seas do not rise, the tides of emotion do not flow, and time itself, imperceptibly passes by. In perfection, in perfect order the wanting mind is, seeking with perfect dark light, seeing from some pedestal, far beyond its own sight. When light shines upon such beauty, its face is smooth and firm. Unblemished, it is the perfected center of the body, the regent of mind. The hair is dark and formally shaped. The body...long, offered, and leisurely draped. And from the center of this resplendent pillar, the mind of pride is as clear space...empty, imposing...only void where emotions be. And from the darkness of its deep, watching and waiting for a soul to keep, there is no place to weep in this world of mind. In this empty space filled with promises of sweet pleasure, subtle beauty is haunting..yet always ready to change, or be measured, or altered to suite even the faintest desire of any one's eye. And in hand with such free gifts, is the darkside of Beauty's pride that no one can fully know, in this space of mind and no'time..in this place, this unrelenting now, within this palace especially made..undaunted, unbending..adorned with soft silk, the substance of dream worlds in the midst of a vast dark sea...she waits amid the pillars of her dreams..of beauty, some would endeavor to possess, unconditionally
3 A clear, crystalline clear untouched heart is the center of innocence. And when draped with the fairness of light's reflection, the life'giving waters of primordial seas bear vast treasures of emotion from every sensation, from every leisure of peace, every pleasure of joy. Such is what fills the heart of innocence..what makes simple fairness resplendent and glowing. Then, a heaviness thickens the aire where beauty was moments ago. A new feeling, a sensation of a larger and greater world has quickly claimed its place in heart. And when its sun left, a great void arose. Dark stillness, a heavy emptiness surrounding is felt. But how heavy can it be? How long can such a heart bear only dim light? Aye!..someone has perceived you truly..seeing past your eyes into a place unknown, untouched. Only there does love want to live. Only within an untouched heart does love endeavor to deeply give. Run! Run fast, but distance only adds weight to love and love's lost. Run if you can. Flee from the light of your moon. Yet, all that awaits you are flowers without flavor, gardens without color. Such is the nature of the eternity before you. Run if you wish, run away into those carefree days and innocent play of dreams..but look upon your horizon. There, you will find the moon, resting upon primordial waters of a silent sea, simply waiting for a lover's return. Only a lover's emptiness you are, and love's lost you cannot otherwise but be, within the substance of your dream
4 Rising and settling low in the sky, the moon is silent and full, and the barren branch of an arbor penetrates its radiant stillness, as to say,
"Glowing light shining full, how easily you penetrate so much that lives and grows. How silently you enter my deep. Your brilliant aura has taken ahold where life boldly ventures, where Beauty endeavors to seek its destiny"
A sleepiness is in the ethers everywhere, and the arbors, short and bare, silently waver to gentle cool breezes. Tufts of scraggly grass scattered upon barren soil seem to be the only sign of life, the only remembrance of a dream. Where has life gone? Where does it sleep? Will it be away for long? Vacant moon, undaunted stillness, your radiance weaves a delicate fabric, loosely draping, casually adorning Beauty's form. Your eyes, haunted, silent, beckons in vain for some touch, some sign of life. Reclined and withdrawn in the midst of this hollow moon, vacant eyes opened to the very deep of Beauty's soul asks, "Where is life? Where is it sleeping, so I may find it, and lay aside its warmth and eternal peace"
Yet, what is a barren moon but a loveless light shining down upon sleepy life resting from itself. And since Beauty is never barren, this must be simply, winter's sleep! Lovelorn Beauty, barren moon..the arbor is bare only from the tides of simple stillness, and the sun's remote radiance. No need to wait and fill your repose with lovelorn gloom. Your lover shall return. Aye! Life has only gone to temporary sleep, and will soon arise to meet your wholeness willing to be adorned..your heart yearning to be filled
5 Alone and darken, divine care is taken, and with reverence given, she carefully, cautiously is. Being divine, she is lifeless. Being some eternity of mind, she is faceless. So still is she, her peace is firmly resolved. Unto itself, like stone. Sure of her treasure made from many sorrows, from bits of soul given, for a smile..a favor, some sentiment, or blessing touch. Her peace..an abyss. Its beginning and end, dark and dreamless. And where does spirit live? when light enters and forever stays. Symbolic beauty is like the stillness of deep space, being no more than the dark or light some word may emit..the word, this beauty is. No matter what light it shines or darkness cast, the world inside cannot be seen. No feeling from there, no emotion can live. No light can arise from crystalline eyes, with only nothing within to give. Her eyes are forever dark, and face, forever shadowed. In peace she is for as long as all else may live. And rising high inside symbolic beauty, there is no time, for the body had become a simple pedestal for what had become the property of mind
6 From within hidden folds of tender warmth, Beauty is drawn, and the mind is quartered beckoning to be touched. Dear sweet pain! From one arousing touch becoming greater, consuming, becoming many, into pleasure's dark bosom will Beauty venture. And taken deeply, simply for pleasure's sake, tender touches, over and over..sweet love, Beauty would make for pleasure's bles'sed sting. Sweated by desire's fire, there is no measure for its treasure gained..but for what is gained, an equal measure of light is given, and Beauty falls swiftly, darkly into itself. Poor and stricken with cravings, there is no end..only deep darkness when pleasure ends. And only pleasure's prickly sting can bring Beauty back for a brief eternity in heaven, inches over the floor of its desert and dust. Impaled by simple lust, Beauty is lost within the softness of flesh..having grown from wanton fire..so abundantly fed by cravings that would not tire..such Beauty lives, but only upon the crucifix of desire
7 Where in this world of carnal desire do the ends of darkness in mind find their ground? The mouth and what proceeds from there, is hidden somewhere within the shadows of a dense forest of minds. What is uttered can only be empty darkness. Like pockets of light scattering into the deep voids of space, words will proceed from Beauty isolated and rooted deep there. Suspended, and far from Earth, Beauty feels from afar, and perceives through sweet defiance, through a quiet rebellion. Far from vacant eyes and life standing still, I run swiftly to see far more than I otherwise could. Far from coordinated uniforms that so many wear, in their helplessness, in their weakness, matching colors, I cannot bear. Far from styles of thought, my thought runs wild in the streets, for how can anyone know what is in my mind? Far from the rules of spirit, will I ponder atop my head with feet in the air. Far from mundane hopes and commercial desires, I shine worthless objects, I cultivate impractical cares. Far from faceless crowds, I seek the cool night air. Far from superficial fears, shallow tears, I venture barefoot where no one else dares. Far from all the pain in the world...who cares? I will scream into the night, urge the gargoyles high atop roofs of lime light..each other, fight. Encourage the Diggers, roust the sleepers. Far from what is right, I will ponder madness, embrace sadness, and scorn any object that brings happiness. Far from what is wrong, everything else must be right! Far from me..truly seeing me..an outlaw of me..I cannot help but be
8 I saw her holding an unusual flower. Like in a dream, she was radiant and fair with dark hair rolling, curling down upon her shoulder. I sense its coolness. I feel its sweetness. And I drift even closer into the deepness of her eyes. Her aura is elegant and radiant. But somehow the spirit had left her. She is very still, suspended, in some quiet trance with her glance fixed upon a flower. Suddenly, I too, feel its fragrance. Its dark center is as compelling as its radiant elegance. And so small and delicate are the leaves that forsaken they must have been, so that the flower will open wide again..a flower now filling me with so much pleasure that closer I must be, to its deep dark center. What is this compulsion? to seek the source of such fragrant beauty..to touch it, feel it..to open deeply and be changed by it. If only I was a gentle warm wind..that I may touch her, that she may experience the aire, her beauty inspires
So often am I drawn into its dark heart. As the wind carried the essence of this unusual flower to me, I am carried far, closeby, it seems. And soon, I am near Beauty's breaking beams. Far away, very far away from the harshness and coldness. And I see her as I see all beauty...partly seen, half hidden..soft, supple, waiting. Into this flower am I beckoned deep, am I carried with all the sea, all the land..the misty billowy waters above, the clear sky there..all life moving, traveling into a vanishing horizon..a journey, seeking the destiny, the sweet dark faiths of majestic beauty
9 For love high, so high, I choose to be...alone, my mind easily divides me. Must I be, forever be? being moved, so deeply moved, forever restrained by dark moods..and so ever contained, and driven to gain, the vast space around me. High! So high in the sky is my mind! Wandering thought, easily forgot, where else can I be? but wandering, and so longing to know, that each feeling, each moment, is dashed into the darkness of my past..each emotion, lost to a thinning sky. High..so very high in the heavens am I, that my moon, always full, divides in the far side of my eyes. My cries, silent cry, asking why, cannot I, otherwise be..lofty mountains, frozen peaks, the clouds floating high..sweet dreams, lost within the maize of my mind..in the sky, suspended high, wandering dreams drifting by
Where my mind wanders, my deep already knows, and far out into the vast space, I travel seeking some union, some conscious communion with my soul. Only there, it seems, after gaining the freedom within a world much larger than I, can I feel the beauty, can I deeply feel this life, as I was so long ago in my beginning. Within this darkness, beset by beauties of mind, is what I am! And here, I remain into eternity, into some greater world beyond me. I am still, as I was so conceived in stillness, in the darkness of womb when I was ready to be born, to arise and simply be. Like an unborn body, I am that I am, beset by mind, becoming ready to be born again with a clean unbroken moon. And with eyes made clear as an open sky, perceiving life from there..receiving the life, I would freely give from there, from life renewed within me. Needing to be of a larger space, far larger than what any mountain of ambition could ever be, I am high in the sky, I am deep within a vast mind where I dare not ask when at last my spirit will fly, for fear of knowing too much, its eternal return
Until then, I am love high, and so high am I, so distant from home, the space easily divides. Must I be?..forever be, so deeply moved..so eternally restrained and contained by some dark brooding mood. High, so very high in the sky is my mind. Wandering thought..and drifting..so longing to touch and be deeply moved, that each feeling becomes a dream lost in the darkness of my past. Each emotion, lost to the ethers of the sky
10 When the sky is wide, and open, and the sea is broad, gently rippling in all directions, drifting off and disappearing where the sky touches the sea..when the sea is this way, the sun moves high, arching over..moving slow, its beaming radiance drives me deep into mind. Suspended, drifting over the ripples, flowing aimless upon the swells of the sea, the waters contain me..the sky embraces me. As in my beginning, this open sea is at one with everything. Around, within, throughout, it pervades all that lives in its midst. And moved by the moon, the universe of the waters ebb and flow to the rhythm of a larger world than itself. Imperceptibly changing. Moving darkly, yet at one with all that it contains. Upon the surface of the waters, a sunbeam's journey is abruptly ended. Many paths of light are ended, being absorbed or redirected, being scattered in all directions from the ceaseless motion of a sea. And nowhere can I be to avoid such scattered light, of the light whose path is abruptly ended in me
The darkness of a deep sea overlords me like the night against barren mountains, of hope, of dreams..of so many aspirations imagining what I could be. And now, as I always have been since my many beginnings, I am that I am. I am only what creation has given to me, what I have made of it, and so inconspicuous do I feel that even the wonder I have of the smallest creatures, or the tiniest of substance divides me. My soul seeks within this bit of eternity, some space within which all life belongs. In leaving this pleasant now, and entering into past and future, the night falls and lays heavy upon me. Darkness is throughout me, and my deep, having divided and re'divided, becomes as we..the delicate branches of I, as I was simply, in my beginning
Still, in silent repose, laughter and carefree joys faintly echo from a distant past. Pleasures from there, are but sentiments in eternity, forgotten dreams in the night. Who of the living? can know the destiny of the shadow that one's light cast
The sky is broad, open and clear. The ocean...serene, formidable, and immeasurable. The clear dome of Earth is all around me, embracing me, permeating throughout my deep. And far off, distant in time ahead of me, is my soul branching delicately. Of the darkness in life it is, always ready, always seeking sustenance..seeking life wherever it may be. Life, so crowned as any could be, I am living!..I am alive..this subtle thought, this quiet but omnipotent feeling, now coursing throughout me. To forever live this pleasant sensation, this beauty, this all'consuming notion..a bit of eternity remaining
11 Made from the substance of dreams..being of spirit so fine and inscrutable that there is no apparent connection between its ghostly heart and the material it occupies...and the wings of its delicate heart are also but figments of illusion within a world where time does not exist, where the spirit moves freely amid the things of creation. Such etherealness so refined, moves deftly between alien worlds..but with lackluster eyes of a reluctant spectator
Being so far apart from all, unawares of eternity existing, with vision great and small, unseen is immortality's perdition...un'esteemed, its fate. And while the timeless world truly promises great vision..living unseen, giving unknown..loving unfelt, is the price for immortality to be
For eternity to be, how can it end? Any beginning and end of time is arbitrary. How can time overlord eternity? Time is illusionary therefore, a template to suite one's purpose, superimposed over streaming events, each a unique signature with its special timbre passing through a window opening and closing..but only if it is the beneficiary of forgetfulness. Poor immortality of beauty skin deep..time passes, the muse inevitably passes. The only consolation is inevitable regeneration..for all that has been before? no one really knows for sure
Twilight and night of youth fades with a dark moon. Such darkness is deep..impending loss of youth..alone, even Beauty is profoundly changed and moved to be at one with the starry firmament. Like Beauty's immortality, life's youth becomes more giving, and I am drawn. This strange sleepiness pulls on her, and from eternity is beauteous youth delivered, and transfigured into illusionary figments of the past, to make the sensation of beauty longer last
"To sleep," the bones of my soul say. "Become lost somewhere in life for love's sake," my heart spake. Abandoned forsaken youth, a whim providence will make. Of this eternity everpresent, everywhere, ever waxing and waning in and out of time, I am of..yet for soul to sleep, I must live! And in becoming images of the past as the stars in the heavens are but substance of future dreams, this time now inevitably begets future and past within me
And this youth in passing I would spend, for a bit of wisdom that immortality would lend..for soul to sleep, and love to live, life is..immortality's beginning and end
12 In that instant when the wind suddenly surged, the lower body of her hair shifted as she turned. Feeling the presence of my eyes, she permitted me to sip her vision like a fine wine. But only for an instant could I taste such fairness. This grand mansion, a temple of lush opulent fragrance, a delicate domain of exquisite beauty so radiantly adorned and so love blessed, that the gentle shear of her silk readily clings to her supple form
My awkward mind stumbles and trips over itself contemplating her. And deadly fixed is the faint expectation in her eyes having turned to me, reaching..asking, becoming large and full of some long hope. And I, in my abrupt manner of passing, saying, "No, not I, dear one. I am only an onlooker, a passerby stopping only briefly to perceive your beauty. And please forgive me for disturbing you. I, being able to know you only through this instant within which you enter me, must make you become like the crystal stillness of a looking glass mirror..becoming timeless, indelible in memory"
What common irony is this? that by my own values, I, like so many others, can only be a brief fantasy to you. You are high in my temple, and faraway you cannot help but be from so many, so deeply buried inside your beauty. Lost within the slender grace of your fingers, within the smooth contour of your face, the clear wholeness of your eyes, within the undisturbed fullness of your lips, love is silent, unmoved, and entombed
What strange irony this is!..that the love of beauty can so easily entomb beauty in me, or become the tomb of love in you
Love entombed, reaching, seeking a greater expectation than the mansion built around you. And waiting, wanting!..to be more than some image within mortal memory. What more can you yearn for? but to be simply, something more than what was given you in your beginning
13 How fair she is, in her silent repose, holding a bit of stillness while the gentle winds play with small reeds in the sand. The sea is quiet and calm. The steady rhythms of waves upon the shoal is like a meditation, a chant warming the spirits everywhere with its salty essence. The sky is clear, and from horizon to horizon, brilliant radiance from above warms soft sands by a sea
How still the flowers are, with their broad leaves drinking deeply the radiant beams. Sweet silence in waiting they are. And a flower has opened its dark center for the special spirit who would enter, and in time, cause it to wither from its fertile seeds. Is this the motive, the power of beauty?..to beckon from afar any spirit able to enter and beget those seeds from which beauty may again arise? She has the sea behind her, the open sky above and the warm soft sands beneath her. For a silent moment, she is at one and inseparable from primeval beginnings
"Radiant beauty, splendor divine..where is your special spirit, your true lover? Your dark gleaming hair is bound by the cloth laying upon you, adorning you, as your silent repose adorns the sands by a sea. Alone, at one and inseparable from all, you cannot otherwise but be
"Madam, flower in waiting...do you often wonder when your lover will appear? How will you know? among the many attracted to the fullness of your breast, to the full lips adorning your face..attracted to the sweet dark depths of Beauty's embrace, to the clearness of your eyes and fairness of your face. How will you know which enchanted desire can recover enough to truly see you in your eyes? Only he who sees you, whose greater realm becomes warmed and colored by you, will secure and magnify yours, for the seeds of your beauty to be nurtured and freely be, once again
14 The wind gently moves tiny blades of grass. Small leaves twist and quietly joust. A flat sea stirs upon its surface..subtle ripples. The great bodies of billowy clouds above are free from the hold of Earth. And freely, the wind blows. Freely the blades of grass sing, and the flowers rejoice whenever the spirits over land and sea move them
Beneath the heavens, day brings clear warm blue from above, and satin winds lay upon silken skin. If only this dream of freedom I feel everywhere could break into me and become real. If only I could touch her gentle contours. Perhaps her beauty deep I could feel. She lays so complete and whole..so firm, yet giving..so still, yet living
I know I could never touch her, because how does one caress the wind, or cup a silent ripple of the sea? How does one embrace the delicate ethers of the clouds, or this dream of freedom that wishes to forever be? Laying there, so quiet. Being of all. Feeling her from afar, like a dream this freedom cannot be possessed. In possessing, one is possessed. And unless I turn away and leave, forever I would be kept by the enchantment of her dream
And I turned to see her once more..to see her soft subtle form, but she had disappeared with the last swell of the sea..and then I remembered...like the dunes that forever shift and rest is freedom's constitution, she was only made of sand, and the substance of my imagination
15 In the dark of night, the tops of the clouds shine bright. The spirits of the air are thick and heavy. Yet, so clear these ethers are, that when the clouds separate, the waters suddenly enlighten with a silvery sheen. The moon glows silent, full, and so very large, that the far side of Earth is an incandescent day sparkling the crests of breaking waves..sparkling everywhere, this boon into vanishing horizons. And high above, the misty waters are also clearly seen. They too have been filled with radiant incandescence of moon
Dark night, silent glowing night, the beauty in everything suddenly radiates. From the dark of a distant past, Beauty arises adorned only with its aura, ready to give, ready to receive..always willing, to do whatever pleases
Beauty arises easily enough from the elements of Earth, from the waters, from the light of a radiant moon. And so still is this Beauty that the waters within, are easily at one with the gentle mists above and the sea below
Being of the waters, so easily are we spirited, so easily are we soothed by its giving nature. The moon shining radiantly full, giving its silvery aura to the sea..the sea now, far more silent than it could otherwise be, beckons Beauty to its depths. Yet, Beauty is held fast by the waters above. At one is Beauty, with all that is
And the soft delicate mists above hold me while I, like the Beauty before my eyes, also receives the spell from such potent light...subtle, gentle glow, everything awakens with your presence! In the pitch of night, soft light and gentle spirits settle upon dark ocean swells. Upon deep waters, you make the mists above become one with the sea. In this silent light, moonspells enter easily, all seeking beauty
Sweet Beauty, I see you clear and strong. I see you...untouched, silent, and waiting, because you are there, profoundly. Like the deep of a sea, like great bold winds wandering freely, you are there like the moon moored quietly upon the sea...incandescent, radiant, and sparkling
16 A strong dull pain suddenly penetrates my solar plexus. My spirit is lost. My mind...empty space. Into a kind of limbo I be. Of no feeling I am. Within an eternity of no free feeling, suspended am I
The lines and subtle shadows of her face are so deeply assured, so completely curved into a radiant wholeness that each feature of her face, every lash of her eyes, every bold prominence seems an unwitting servant to her body. And most assuredly she moves, for every aspect of herself is a slave to her entire form
Intimately intertwined, and forever married is boldness and grace together. Moonstruck and so taken by this peculiar, yet wondrously soft form with so much grace of line and simplicity of contour..so profoundly bound am I in this enchanted stillness, where there is no clear meaning, no aspiration because being completely of all, is just being
In this ebb, an aire of emotion becomes a current of feeling..untouchable, yet strong and gripping..unfathomable, yet compelling
Suspended in time, a part of all, the tides of emotion are, for a moment, still within a brief eternity..feeling the radiance of her beauty, feeling its radiant aura
And so faraway is everything I touch, so detached am I from all I see, that this strange vacantness possesses me. So fully and completely have I been taken, that, in this still night, looking up, I do not see the moon as it is otherwise seen...I see there, moored quietly upon the sea, a beautiful woman. I see her lean back, close her eyes with her lips slightly parted, and dip her long dark hair, to be at one there, with the moon and sea
In the moon, I am doomed. En la luna, I feel like some empty uninhabited shell. Limp and weak.. spineless, and unseen at that! Her beauty radiates in the brightness of day. And I, in a silent night, can only remain still and just be..peering out from this eternity, that beauty has cast onto me
17 Long ago..far distant into my earthly soul, I sense that I once knew sweet peace. So faint is the memory that, from my beginning some time soon after I was conceived, this memory must have been made. Such peace is like the touch of warm silk. Such a peaceful warmth is my earthly beginning. And growing in eternity, I often wonder, I wish to know...is this the foundation, the center, the birth of my earthly soul? So far away am I, from this place...how cold am I, how tolerant of being so cold, I so often am! So faraway am I from this haven that sometimes in the quiet stillness of a deep night, a warm silken embrace rises slowly up..and fading from all earthly meaning, I fall fast into a dreamless eternity
So consumed as I am, I would turn to Beauty..only to say, "I too, share the same beginning, sharing the same delicate soft peace, the same dark dreamless sleep in our beginning"
18 From deep in life, Beauty says..."Behold me. I am the gift of love. I am greater than the total of your pleasure. I am the quiet balm of your leisure. The treasure of your deep." Such a pleasant aura Beauty has. A quiet pose that may be as deep as life is old, or as strong as love's hold...Beauty is, in all that lives..glowing and radiating as though it was the sole purpose of existence, the primeval theme..a universal prayer
Beauty for Beauty's sake! Aye! Many, as well as I, would gather together and trade all the odd pieces of an entire life for a bit of beauty. Yet, what if such an ideal should suddenly incarnate and all too quickly appear before me? The skies would darken to a brooding mood. The rains would seep into my soul to where a sculpture had been made, of perfection, of beauty so consuming, that if touched, a fatal blow would be struck there. And resolved to my own ideal, I would say..."Dear Beauty, please arise! Live and give of yourself only to the one who can see you truly. Please arise and leave this blinded soul hopelessly entombed by your radiant glow"
Forever this now, I feel an eternity had been dedicated to Beauty's creation. Long life is promised for the true lover, who, while captivated by her aura, and suffering the deep dull ache from a small world suddenly grown very large and intense, suffers only, from his Beauty ideal. So changed within, and forever changing if need be for Beauty's sake
But how much must I become a stranger to myself to be freed from la'belle ideal? Let the divine images of Beauty live! Let them flourish within. Adorn them. Derive pleasure from them in meditation. Savor and possess the sublime sensation, the exquisite joy of beholding the final consummation of one's total values. Behold them, in secret secluded places of mind. Caress the gentle ethers surrounding her body. Touch softly the parting of her lips. Kiss lightly their corners. Embrace the borders, the sweet soft lines of her body. Do all of this, where Beauty is...but what if I should truly meet her? A temple had already been made. And there, forever bound am I. Yes!..the skies would darken and cry, and I, deeply empty, would say, "Begone! Beauty in youth is only skin deep, and being of mortal life, it must inevitably fade"
And in that fading..does Beauty die? Aye!..often gone is Beauty, especially when love is shallow and transient. Yet, such small savory morsels make apetite for more, for beauty deeper and longer lasting
19 Her lips are full, extended, and sharply defined. They are of a kind that compels me to touch them with my mind. Touching them gently, stroking them carefully onto her face. Her eyes are bold and her face is commanding. And she, knowing her beauty, allows nothing to touch her without becoming a part of her. And so woebegone would I surely be, if ever I should endeavor to enter her consuming mind. All of my past and future would instantly and forever fade into some faraway dreamless sleep
Her garment is but a trivial compliment to her delicate form. And so striking is the radiant fullness of her hair that, like her lips, I am compelled to stroke it, gently and easily onto her forehead, around her delicate ears, touching it onto her face
Things of beauty are blended in perfection..blended far beyond my inclination to detect imperfection. This beauty blossoms and radiates, and she thirsts for the sun. And in that instant when the radiate heat of the sun poured down, like a flower opening its pedals to beckon free spirits into its dark center, she opens deeply...and her full bodied lips part, drinking deeply the radiance from above
And from deep below, her crown rises in a sudden surge, rising!..into a radiant high..and there is where I left her, because when her hair lets down under an intense sun, I know she would become a flower with such a radiate aura, that I could not withstand the command her beauty would make
Looking directly into Beauty's eyes, a radiant high would enter me, and instantly..forever changed, I would be
20 To the universe of worlds and to the universe within, to the gods and God of gods upon this foundation rapidly vanishing into a distant horizon, I submit my spirit for this time of life, this earthen haven of the heavens. I readily offer my deepest, my darkest most precious. And I give, bearing the innermost of me, having learned from the arbors giving their most precious leaves, feeling all, striving to be, living worlds such as these
Like feathered wings extended in mind, I want to be..and fly into the vast universe far beyond me, where from life self'aware, from every feeling, every self light..from every emotion, every notion, its vision in flight, I could feel beauty freely given..never forsaken, never forgotten
Like the feathers of a wing, I am lost in flight from the mind's fixation upon the substance of radiant light. Suspended in dawn. Morning break when all awakes, or in the evening at the precise end of day, the sun quietly settles beyond the cool shade of life'giving green. Even then, I am upon still waters of a sea because freedom of beauty, for a moment, must..just simply be...contemplating itself, feeling its destiny, like the clear spring mornings are, this essence is the substance of dreams, the radiance of a star
To all gods and goddesses..to the God of gods, to life...what beauty, life of me may give, I return..I freely offer as a beginning, that I may live
All the living in the universe is set in motion. Always turning, always vanishing beyond far distant horizons. Forever changing, each moment passes, and only from an offering within, can the fate of worlds in collision be altered, that treasured instant in which an exquisite essence become a feeling, that eternity knowing life
21 Love, and sweet quiet sea, pleasant dream silent before me. Your deep is calm, loyal, and true like the sea, and the spirits aloft move easily and freely between the tendrils of life and your beauty
Like the winds everywhere, freely wandering, you hope and wait for life's embrace. And with eyes bright and awake, waiting, wanting, my eyes cannot look steadily upon you
Above, high above, sweet unseen ethers of the sea soar freely. Fresh clearness and warmth. And I, so often wishing to be there, feel strongly the waters of your soul upon this earthen floor, rich with the seeds of life's yearning
Beauty, dear Beauty...how can I receive your eyes? A part of I, while embracing your delicate aura, would surely die gazing into your soul, I know, asking only for simple living
But even in simple living, while love begins innocently enough, at some time it must end for love to truly live. Such is the fate of mortal love, knowing love only by the gate of its beginning and end
Aye! For such moments in life, I would die a little, and while a bit of me would feel as a stranger, the rest would surely feel that it has lived
Love..sweet love, warm radiance from above..of the moon in the sea, I wish to be of. Of eyes, clear and fair, within their deep, I may live. And from my deep, the unseen there would willingly suffer the light and offer its dark substance. If only to behold such radiance. If only to perceive for just a passing moment, a brief eternity, the giving, living love of Beauty's soul
Life arising, slowly rising..embracing, and gently entwining this Beauty's soul. Carefully rising, slowly seeking this sweet stillness, this peace patiently waits for the tendrils of life to slowly embrace, and in time, reclaim what has been given
Beauty has been freely given by life. Never driven, nor forsaken...love of Beauty, quiet sea, the waning moon promises life, a pleasant life for you and me
22 As inscrutably as the radiant consciousness around me brightens to enlighten, it fades and disappears after casting new shadows. Unknowing, I cannot help but be unwittingly living within the shadows of my own sensitivities, and living therefore, by far more than what I know
How else? but born with far more hidden than revealed in life, can I live..feeling that one has lived, new and renewing amid all else that lives. Of the dark therefore, I mostly am, for the sake of life..living with only very special means, perceiving with very narrow limits..feeling..and in time, to simply say, "I know," and deeply feel, being far more than 'I am that I am' here and now
When the radiant consciousness of day leaves, a blossom remains, and through its sweetness the arbor is seen within the shadow of a new moon. The winds though, once seen by the movements of spirit everywhere, now, can only be felt and heard as they moan and whisper in the midst of darkness. The waters are gone, and like so much else in deep night, I am alive only by what I can feel. Touching the waters, breathing its salt. Sensing its coolness, its nature clings to me, as I hold for as long as I am able, all that I feel from looking into the dark
Only in my night, can life deepen. Only in such darkness, can life be spirit born. In this night, spirit waits. With wide open steady eyes, I hear the slightest sound nearby, I hear its subtleties..its movements I feel. The dark becomes darker. Every moment, every sound sinks deeper
Deep within the night of a new moon, look into the dark, and feel the night within...a thought or feeling, or some prevailing mood begets many! Yet, even so much welling up from the deep, can be suddenly ended in the instant that a dry twig cracks nearby from some cautious creature. Or in the moment that an arbor begins to creak, being moved by a spirit in the night
Looking into the dark, I feel my own mind. I feel a space far greater than I..and there, within my nighted mind, enough time there always seems to be, to feel fast or slow as need be. To think at any pace, to any cadence as necessary, for melody, for sweet songs echoing
Living, and perceiving such a small portion of all there is...what else can mortality do, but feel through the dark? Feeling the space everywhere, expanding in search of transcendental fire..contracting in carnal desire. What else to do? but nourish those moments when, in deep night of beauty, my night opens to what is there. To feel there, far, far beyond me. And returning, feeling a'new, the sun shines upon everything around me during a radiant mid'day. And from everything, shadows fall darkly, new'made
23 In the beginning, for hours and days we exchanged divine light. And soon, I saw you. Deeply hollowed, heart and soul opened to you. And later, my mind so often waiting, so often giving became silent from not knowing what I shall become from moment to moment. And soon...life is rich and intense! Yet, with fair Cupid's arrow penetrating deep, how greater the joy! How greater the pain! Is this the price? for any youth regained
And gently I touch your silky fairness, and hold the clearness of your eyes, while embracing every gesture of love in disguise. Thus stricken, am I consumed by desire. And held fast by your beauty, I become tempered by its romancing fire..its light casting shadows everyone can see, I am unable to see. And when you are at my side, when your beauty is closeby, I feel strangely whole in some world greater than I
All I perceive draws me faraway and deep, to when the winds were bold spirits, capricious and alive..when each flower, a new experience..when colors were vivid and intense, when I was fearless, and only things of beauty made any sense
Thus we first met and romanced. Thus we danced and sang, and laughed and wept. Thus we slept in the comfort of each other's arms. And now, having grown accustomed to each other's charms, having been delivered from Cupid's wound, its pain..blinding love and hate even darker...perhaps now, we can know one another
24 This fairness once a blessing was fashioned in shades of color and bold lines for the sake of another's character. But only the does the cold last from instant pleasure. In this craving endeavor to gain and forever covet the fruits of beauty, Beauty shall swiftly, completely vanish with each blink of an eye. Into forever did she silently weep. Into forever did she succeed in keeping beauty skin deep. But while she was there, someone dark also cries under a strobing light. And now, the sun is falling into her eyes
25 Such a pleasant aura does Beauty have. And the tides of emotion are, for a moment, still within this brief eternity, feeling the radiance of Beauty, feeling its radiant aura. Such stillness is like the touch of silk upon new born skin..a gentle softness I cannot touch. I cannot touch what the mind has perfected. Beneath the heavens, day brings clear warm blue from above. And the gentle winds lay upon silken waters...if only I was the wind, that I may touch and feel the moon moored quietly upon the sea, feeling the substance of dream worlds and the shadows of mind whispering forgotten dreams
Beneath the night, the sky is broad, open and clear..and suspended, I am drifting upon the ripples, flowing aimless upon swells of a sea. The waters contain me. The sky embraces me. And for a silent moment, Beauty is at one and inseparable from life's beginnings. And serving the beginning of life like the brilliant beams of an early morn, this essence of life is the substance of dreams, the radiance of a star
Such a pleasant aura does Beauty have that it seems to be as deep as life is old on Earth. Radiant splendor, beauty divine, from high above, warm gold enters you, and the spirits within you move easily and freely. And you glow like a new born..radiant, all knowing. How deftly you enter me!..permeate, move me
With forsaken mind, my heart you keep. And my soul, with a radiant high from looking into your eyes, having been moved by you, forever haunted shall I be..your eyes shall always persuade me