Mystical poetry.

(140 words, a two minute read)

In icy dream

We ate our picnic, you and I

And watched while moonbeams

Lit the curls of how and why

And seated watchers watched the sky

No frozen crusts of bread:

This food of soul was liquid light

Drawn, once, upon the glittering night

Enmeshed, entwined, in meanings bright

Like crystals on the icy table

Afar, you gazed

And with your pointing finger

Sought my leave – I feared

But when I looked, the end

Now so far beyond the means

Had disappeared

Instead, where finger had

Above the crystal surface, been

Was drawn in quickly melting ice

A signature concealed

That, grasped with eyes and ‘I’,

Revealed the path to morning

©Stephen Tanham, 2021.

Stephen Tanham is a Director of the Silent Eye, A journey through the forest of personality to the sunrise of Being.

5 Comments on “A dream of Ice Crystals

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