Morning in the Tropics----Frederic Edwin Church

Lost in a cold holocaust of moonfire
Following indigo trails of never
Through moments that connect
in chainlink pattern
and stretch away in glowing lines
of uncreated memory
to a turbulent and forgotten dawn.

We travel, encased in shells of dreams
that have hardened into the oblique ovoids
of untouched realities.
In fear of consummating darkness,
we dance the dance of light
and pretend to know the reasons
for our confusion.

Blind and naked against the night,
We are moments of powder-flash
burning against the coldness
of an eternal and infinite space
where the hands of the clock wave madly
beckoning us into a continuum of sameness
that soothes our flayed awareness.

Born in the nebula of forgetfulness
We swim the river of Lethe
and ride the shoulders of Sisyphus to damnation,
and our momentary brilliance
is but a pinprick in the fabric of time
but we dance the dance of light
and search horizons of tomorrow
for our forgotten dawn...

.....and we love.

phantom...(c) WLA 12-31-2000