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I am being carried
On the shoulders of my muse
Through many time zones and space dimensions,
The smell of her lavender perfume
Filling my nostrils with its earthly aroma.
Travelling high above clouds
Higher than any man before
The journey smooth and clear
Till I arrive outside the iron gate
Of the firmament.
Inside the palace, seated at the table
I see familiar faces, heroes of my youth
Figures from my past, as I remember them
Sharp of intellect, intuitive of mind, supple of limb
A perfect summation of their life’s worth.
There are other faces, less familiar
Fresh and innocent, belonging to the future.
They are yet to be born, yet to suffer
The rigours of life or experience its pleasures.
The past and the present meet,
The future yet to be drawn or defined
In the palatial chamber of the firmament
My muse by my side.
Children of the future, seated at the table
In the company of their grandparents;
We are the link, the portal to the past.
The lavender perfume;
Its intoxicating aroma bringing the curtain down
On three generations, a tripartite fusion.
Time stands still on the firmament.
It is always morning. |
