day and night rip

at the seam of the eclipse

when yin and yang wave

in wrestling filiments

floating on dreams

winding their way through

rivers dark and green,

too deep to sea,

too clear not to be seen,

rising mermaids in

blue and silver trim,

fins irridescent closer to

the sun's limbs rising into

springing waters catching

whirling spirals of

aquatic splendor

twisting into columns of

salty foam,

pillars guarding the entry

to atlantis,

moments dripping slowly

away,

last sands in the hour

glass,

time passing away,

golden tickets

dropping into buckets

collecting spare change.

the blind beggar's cup

'neath the holes

catching the residue of the

sun while cloudy eyes

envision what's been

in shadows blocking the heat

from the eclipse wherein

lies the yolk,

omniscent eye of the gods,

birth in chemistry and

jeans,

white hot clouds rising

from the spray of dolphins

and spouting whales

crisscrossing braids of

streams wherein rides pixies

in the majestic parade

through the triangle and

into the unknown,

weathering storms blown in

on death's breath.

steady still riding on the

dragon's tail,

emerald mist carrying heavy

loads bobbing to and fro as

moon and sun part company,

slow peel like the stick of

a bandaid pulled tenderly,

return to their places of

day and night while mystic

crowns still voyage on.

there's no letting go.

no turning back. 

the vortex spins.

the vessel goes in.

all are committed.

 
there's no letting go.
no turning back....
nor do they want to.