in flight . . . and the music played

[Bill]

 

in flight . . . and the music played

he closed his eyes

just after twilight

and rode his dreams

towards death

senses enlivened

seeking peace

when he arrived

at the gate

it was chained and locked

and death defied him

once more

he knew

in some uncanny way

that he had to find a way

to cross over

to the other side

for this is the life

the one he was stuck in

he was called upon

to lay down

and the music played

if there was to be change

then all had to change

no remnants of memory

could be held on to

and all the nuances of past pretense

past character

had to be removed

he needed more

than absolution

and this was the solution

the holy revealed unto him

and the music played

he unmounted his steed

and stood by the gate

pondering

wondering

about this plight

this night

and the locked gate

which he had given flight

to only arrive

and be refused entry

and the music played

and gently

he began to weep

and the tears flowed

from his sleep

into his nightmares

and upon his feathered pillow

only to touch again

the resonance of his awareness

in this dream

and the music played

there were shadows

and it seemed

that he was existing

listing

betwixt the two dimensions

for most men’s realities

and there hapless actualities

created when one seek to escape

as he did

when he mounted

his steed

in search of the need

he  thought he needed

only to find the gate locked

as he did every night

in his flight

towards death

and the music played

© 11 August 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

 

 

[Bill]

[Eva Libre]

Thank you for your always very sensitive verses Bill. Accompanied with a meaningful picture.