Time has a borrowed dream. Sacred and True. Hollow and pale. Borrowed in myth was this dream. For it was not its own nor reality borne. More a creation of its own fading footfalls and whispered heartbeats.
As seasons race and reasons gale, the journey of life has by itself become a pale painting of an abstract emotion. And mankind melts in silent stupor while begotten sons of earthly thought prevails to sculpt perfect misery on pallid races. Religions rule and gods brood and bloodshed beckons all humankind to dreamy despair.
Yet time, stillborn though in flight seeks solace in masked mirth. And the shadows wait.
The clouds flight in faith, the stars light in truth. A pregnant sky lets the dusk draw dancing shadows on tired dreams. The oceans let the waves wash themselves in wanton wanderlust. Yet time is still and yet moves. Slow and sure. And the shadows wait.
Sometime shadows do mean that there’s light shining nearby. Time still dreams. The shadows wait…….for peace and truth to prevail in haste..
Lovely…to live in shadows is to live in truth….keep inspired always.