Spun Light . . .

BEAUTY--- in silence--- Quiet in stillness---

Takes the lovely things of peace

And from their essence

Makes a thing of spun light float as feather-down

Leaving trails of itself in spiralling threads

Of exquisite thought

Come to steal away the dust of dullness

The dim of idleness--- and touch and illumine

The far reaches of my mind

I am lost in straight lines where I think in wise spaces

There are no curving meanings that enlighten

Where I know too much---

The things of haste become loquacious thieves

Where I speak long-winded forms of outward thought

 

They are not--- lifting--- these easier rambles      

That fill my common paths of well trodden concepts---   

They perform only the dry duties

Of the outskirts of existence--- that take no time

To understand--- the things that cannot be understood

Rather be lost for words 

Than have them marry too quickly

We are all the poorer for our many speeches

Enough that we have the glint of the thing

The sudden sparkle of the hiding diamond

More reflective light 
      Than we could ever see or know---  

Or turn to thought--- 

Dances on the twinkling sunlit sea

                                     * 

-From:  ARKIAHH DREAMING; The Ragged Writings of Everland; Volume 3