"Returning
is the way of the Tao.
Yielding is the way of the Tao.
The ten thousand things are born of being.
Being is born of not being."
-- Lao Tsu
T'ai i Travel Guide
Lost, you wander aching in sweat.
Alone, you trek across shattered outlands.
Lonely, you shout at emptiness.
Frightened when it shouts back, you flee into desperation.
Dust devil demon jumps at you.
Hot blowing sand in your face, "Hi! Who are you?"
Mirage leaps out of nothingness into your pleading eyes.
A desperate charade beneath a desperate sun,
you stare at reflections of desperation.
Too many scenes.
From where did they all come?
Too many people, too many places, too many dreams.
Just search and seizure scenes. All styrene.
Too real.
But what about love?
Isn't it real?
Please?
Too good to be true, freedom of choice
falls...
out of the sky into your groping arms.
Something to hold on to (is it real?).
Look for cover.
Make a stand.
Alternate selection in a blind maze.
Falling
Falling
Falling vertigo dungeon.
Wake up traveler, look around.
Welcome home.
Pearl star mist in a sapphire sky, walls and roof.
Early morning, a rising tide washing blackness back.
New day, deja vu.
Furious little patches of desert
tan
scatter along a softly curving horizon.
Dust devils, small turmoil here and there, feigning vastness.
A child's broken fantasies.
Innocent pain twisting into futile rage
spinning outward and away.
A bedding pastel moon swims slowly down calling you.
Warm sweet enchanting sensuous emotions touch
passion whispering ocean breeze caress.
Deja vu.
Fresco floors, a shimmering sea of moving
design.
Fluid forever past, eternally present in endless passage.
Figure and form, portrait and pattern woven.
How and why intertwine, ways and means wander by.
All you are and all you want to be
intimate reflections of changing mosaic.
Here ends and begins your Nile,
long journey into yesterday wide and deep with memory.
A piece of infinity in shades of indigo blue
set upon shades of indigo blue.
Past all charades beneath the weighty
social mask.
Down arrogant stairs through dark imagined doors
bolted against personal breach.
Below Oedipus and Electra,
beneath the angst, beyond all doubt
where once you thought a dungeon was found
are pearl stars in a sapphire sky.
Open your eyes and look around your mind.
Welcome home.
Deja vu.
circa 1983
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