Lines in the smallness of hours

In the smallness of hours
lines come to mind as if
I were pulling them
from a place between
the heart and somewhere
warm where hours
are neither small nor large
because time is not there.

These lines I now pull
from mind and let go.
Of them and of my own
intricacies, as if all were
simply threads of a dream
that has been bundled
and pulsing in its cocoon
and is now ready to fly.

But, in the smallness of hours
I realize the largest thing of all.
These lines of dream and of me
do not fly alone. Transformation
came to mind, to heart, and to
somewhere warm where hours
were neither small nor large
because time was not there.
Transformation, thus the wings
came from lines pulsing with
love, bundled in a cocoon
of love, with your own lines
of dream.

Come, my love. Let us
spread our wings, now
and let our dreams fly.
There, where time is not
but transformation is made
of lines that come to mind
and we pull together
as threads of life.

© 2006 Alexandra* ~ OneLight*®