Phoenix
by Dale J. Sprague
Op. 20
Outlaw
I am
drawn, faraway, 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. When the radiant consciousness of day
leaves, a blossom remains, and through its sweetness, an 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 the night. With the waters unseen, and like so much else in the
deep of night, I am alive, only by what I can feel. Touching the sea, breathing
its salt, sensing its coolness, its nature clings to me, as I hold, for as long
as I am able, all I feel, within the dark of me. To feel there, far, far beyond
me, and returning, the sun shines upon everything. And from everything, shadows
fall darkly, new'made..upon everything, but me
With
feathered wings extended, I want to be..and fly into the vast universe, where
from every feeling, every notion, its vision in flight, I could feel freely,
and with all given, never forsaken, never forgotten..perhaps see me. 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 the freedom of me, for a moment, must..just simply be...contemplating
itself, feeling its destiny, like the clear spring mornings are, its essence,
the substance of dreams, the fragile radiance of a star. Ever changing, each
moment passes, and only from an offering within, can the fate of worlds in
collision there, be altered
And growing
in eternity, I often wonder, I wish to know...is this offering, a bit of soul,
the center, the birth of my Earthly soul? So far away am I from me...how cold
am I, how tolerant of being so cold! I so often am. "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, ever waxing and waning, 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, begets future and past within
me. And this youth in passing I would spend, for a bit of wisdom that mortality
would lend..for soul to sleep, and love to live, life is..immortality's end
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 until suspended, drifting over 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,
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, the light whose path, abruptly
ended in me
For high,
so high, I choose to be...alone, my mind easily divides me. Must I be, forever
be? being moved, so deeply moved, 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 sky am I,
that my moon, always full, divides in the far side of my mind..my cry, 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 communion with my soul. Only there, it seems,
after gaining greater freedom within a world much larger than I, can I see all,
yet still, no more or less, see me. And here, 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, ready to be born again, with a
clean unbroken moon. And with eyes made clear as an open sky, needing to be of
a greater space, far greater than what any mountain of ambition could ever be,
I am high in the sky, I am deep within a vast mind, where at last, from myself,
I do not fast
Until
then, I am high, and so high am I, so distant from home, the space easily
divides me. Must I be?..forever be, so deeply moved..so eternally restrained
and contained by some brooding mood. High, so very high in the sky, am
I..wandering thought, drifting by and by..each feeling, dashed into the
darkness of my past..each emotion, lost to a thinning sky
But where
in this world of carnal desire? do the ends of darkness find their ground. The
mouth and what proceeds from there, is hidden somewhere, within the shadows of
a dense forest of mind. What is uttered, are words without sound. Like pockets
of light scattering into the deep voids of space, words painting, create only
reflection. Suspended, and far from Earth, I feel from a'far, defiance become resignation
Far from
vacant eyes and life standing still, I run 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 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...who cares? I will scream into the
night.. urge the gargoyles, roosted high a'top roof tops of lime light..each
with each, they fight. Scorn the Diggers, roust the sleepers. Far from what is
right, I will ponder madness, embrace sadness, and bury any object that brings
happiness..for far from me..truly seeing me..an outlaw of me..I cannot help but
be