Luminaries ideas spring up within
like volcanic liquid fire.
Reason flashes before a moths wing
clouds of doubt, regale our gaze.
On distant shores, ventured alone
radiant beauty softened the chill.
Rivers of liquid light flowed
like swirls of vaporous mist.
Fear called out, but listened not.
Many were there but none
were present.
The “hole” in life flashed by
like a rabid dog on its last day.
Within a strand of being
echoes raised.
Were in not for this
that would be.
Felling lost among many
shadows whisper comforting
words.
Out of our depth ,in shallow seas
waves of despair carry comfort aloft.
Rivers of joy beguile my
awkward gaze.
Regards michael, hope you like the poem;
Site Title Finding the SELF. 