where women steal to rendezvous by night
through darkness that a needle might divide,
show them the road with lightning-flashes bright
as golden streaks upon the touchstone's side--
but rain and thunder not, lest they be terrified.
closer
the surface of this world
is like a painting
a painting
ripe with symbols
symbols
that point like signposts
to the deeper places
the richer places
the places that you
have felt
with your intuition
the places
that have nothing to do
with this place
no words
no ideas
~
my eyes
close
my heart opens
then my self
then i am
no more
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