Winter's Dream

Last night I had a dream. Beside the shore of a frozen lake I walked. From beneath the ice I heard the sweetest sound. Faintly, softly, my name called with love. I stopped looked out across the frozen water, seeking the source. "What dangerous beauty calls my name, with a voice so sweet," I cried out. Holding my breath, fearing an answer, needing an answer I listened to the drum of my rapidly beating heart. Closing my eyes, I softly ask What sweet voice is this that calls my name.



Should I fear an answer, should I fear a touch, the soft feel of a breath on my cheek, the warmth of hand on skin, the subtle scent of rose and lake. Come with me, spend the night says this voice so sweet. Fearing to speak, I nod my head, yes trembles my body. Music comes from beneath the ice, carrying heart and mind. Descending, ascending I feel the light change, warmth surrounds me as we step into the bright light of a faint moon.





Opening my eyes to warmth I see before me the one I have always known. She who has haunted my dreams, whose face I know unseen. Long red hair, flash of nipple, hint of mystery between her legs as she walks with wings furled on her back. How can I know this being ethereal, mystical, who now walks beside me, down forest trails when we have yet to meet. What is this hush that falls, footsteps make no sound, no tracks are left. Yet so real, I can feel her hand in mine, her warmth holds me close. We stroll through forest bright and timeless and speak of what has been, what is, what shall be. With a word she lifts my spirit, we fly past startled owl, leaving the earth, searching. Is this heaven? My angel calls me angel and on hearts filled with joy we fly.






Darkening sky, wind rages, what is this that overtakes us. Tumbling, turning looking for something to hold. Air rages around us, throws us back to the ground. Winded, bruised, dazed, tempests in paradise have grounded us. The sunsets as the storm still rages around and above us.





The winds playfully tease bruised wings, as fires are spotted in the valley below. Strange music faintly climbs the hill where we stand. Do others share this strange world I have entered. Who are they, will she who called me here be there. Answers can be found at the fires, whispers the trees. Close your eyes and follow the music murmurs the owl above. Loud crunch of snow, as with each heavy tired step I start towards the flames, and music.



Lightly, softly the music is heard in the distance. A strange joy lightens the step. As each step brings the music closer, the excitement builds. What wondrous creatures make this magical sound. Excitement begins to build as the music becomes louder, heavier, drums pounding. Then nothing. Softly the sweet voice begins to sing in the distance. Sweet sirens song, stirring the blood. Owls words come back to me, Eyes closed I walk towards the sound.






Blind, but seeing, I softly step towards the sound, with each step the song becomes quieter. Stopping, I open my eyes to see my angel before me. "Tis the sound of your heart you follow," She whispers, raising her cupped hands, "Would you like it back?" I look down at her now open hands, back up to her eyes, losing myself in their beauty. No I say, for I have yours within me.



We come together, arms griping tight. Lips press against lip, breast against breast, loin against loin. As the heat begins to rise between us, softly our wings beat. Our feet begin to rise from the ground, but we notice not, lost in embrace. Passion rises, as we float above treetop, gently spinning. Entwined, pierced, lost in love, and lost in desire we rise. Softly sweet singing can be heard above our passionate moans. Light brightens as we surf waves of passion, each new wave building higher, and higher. Explosion building, rising, within. Light explodes, music plays loudly, silence abounds in dark night.










I wake heart thundering, eyes wet, for this joy is no dream.


Summer's Dream




Along summers, busy beaches
I walk the shoreline of pain
Remembering loves dream
Lost to fear



Alone in the crowd tears
Hidden behind dark glassed grin
None knows I hear your voice
Calling from beneath waves
That caress the shore I walk
Summers heat pulls me down paths
Memories of dreams linger
Sweet words shared lost embrace
The dream was a dream
Like all dreams empty of hope
Though still I dare to dream



Without hope I have hope
We still walk together
We still share a life
I hold you close where my heart was
You hold my heart still in your hands
Beating loves rhythm I hear
The wind sigh my name in your voice
Through pines and spruce freshened breath
One-day hope held tight
In my arms the flesh of dreams made real.


Fall's Nightmare




Summer grows into Fall and change returns. Brightly colored leaves are tinged with sorrow. The woods rustle with sound, "She comes, she comes," The mysteries susurrus, faint beneath the waves wash.

Sitting on a rock, bare feet washed by ice water, staring intently across the lake, the watcher waits. Beauty surrounds him, going unrecognized he searches for truth. Blue skies ripple and foam as he wanders lost in uncharted lands.

In madness the small mysteries show themselves. Fish speak of the deep waters and elder beasts that lie in dormant sleep. Dreaming of their reawakening in some distant unknown future. Though closer this moment than last.

Wings crepitate, stiff with disuse, as elder elves approach and speak of wisdom. They know not one haunted word will pass beyond this moment, but hoping to shape the past into today. From mad impetuous rush to crazed irrational sorrow to the still wait, another change comes. The coyote whimpers of impending action.
With a deep sigh, eyes switch from their fixed stare, moving from immobility, ears hear the words again

She comes, she comes
The smell of change fills the air
Crackling lightning, calm breezes, the day moon
Switch to sanity and hope
The waves swirl in tumultuous ecstasy
Calm rises to glory she stands naked
Not the awaited one, but some exotic harbinger of hope.
Smiling she speaks the words unheard
Deaf only lips move without understanding
Growing impatient the foam flecked waves
Arms of spray in exasperation and retreats to the deep.


Upon the cold rock time loses meaning. Days pass slow and swift, there is only moonlight nights. Heavy the sound of the whimper in a stormy night. Breath on bare cheek, warmth within cold arms, sighed name. So soft, the hope of tomorrow, the cold storm warms the lost heart.

Dark corruption spreads her wings and crawls forth to feed the growing madness. She has sense to stay silent, presence alone causes hope to wither, but time has made her a comfort. The lost becomes hope again. Hearing only the whispered mysteries, pacing from word to word, heart pounds in desired anticipation of the long awaited return.

The moon returns, begins to rise. She comes, she comes, whispers of hope, the dark carpet scurries beneath the feet, constant stirring, seething; clinging to the shadow of the dreamer, the soft rustle becomes constant screaming.

Baked to leather by the unseen summer sun crackles as the forgotten squint becomes an excited smile frowned upon the brightening horizon. Will the moon rise on love or will desire howl through another moon darkened night.

The day ends as it began, slow surreal sunlight drying dying dead skin. Chapped by wind, rain, tears. Fall arrives.
Dreams End




Frost tipped foam kisses bare feet with cold shivers;
Rising from sole to soul, deaths cold awareness
Wake

Words rise from behind, swirl with the wind, carrying sorrow and leaves around the forgotten dreamer. The funeral march passes, the dirge rings across the white tipped waves. The year's debris carried beneath water, hidden in the deep, buried forever. Rising the dreamer feels the beat within, once again his heart resides contained by flesh, blood, and hope. Not the old hope of fantasy and lust, but the new.

Ragged, worn, and bearded, the smile appears
Each new ending gives birth to revitalization
Wake

The Eldest speaks from hidden realms. "The dream lasted a time, as dreams will, but night ends finally. Wake and face the day with courage, love once woken will not sleep again. This dream lies in the past, but tomorrow brings reality, there comes one." Turning from the lake, turning from dead fires, turning from past hopes, turning to the new beginning. The open heart can be hurt easily, but the risk is worth the joy.

This dream died in pain and joy
The lesson was learned in growth
I am awake.
M. Lingrell2001






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