Perhaps we didn’t see the pacing of our
lives
Was caught and structured by an
intricate
Set of layers---
Thoughts hidden from the present
Held captive by the past
Jars of dark, line the inward shelves---
The strata of our dreams in the onward
journey---
Layers of some fruitful substance of
mind
Laid between the green lines of our spiralling
‘flowers’
Growing up--- one upon another---
And over and over
The delicate, many-petalled beauty of
every
Crashing tragedy--- encased in cracked
jars---
Pockets of crushed lilies---
Which could rise from their
containers---
An untapped source of inspiration---
And mediate between the lines
And alter the course and speed
Of our crippling pace of progress
It is so --- and so it is --- and we
are nearer each time
*
- From: ARKIAHH DREAMING; The Ragged Writings of Everland; Volume 3
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