Uncharted oceans filled with infinite droplets of time.
Where are our directions written?
Only but there in black letters,
hanging like pictures on the secret chamber walls
of our soul’s midnight skies.
“I can’t see them” you say,
Your directions are written on the rainbow’s curve in white letters,
hanging like pictures on the bright light flight of day.
You can look right at them and never see what it is that they say.
Sail on my friend, on this journey from the beginning that has no end.
Your directions have been written “I say,” in the dreams of children,
and the aspirations of the Gods, and in the hearts of man.
Our directions are hanging there like pictures,
and can be seen on the shores of innocence,
and in the deep carved lines found in the palms of our hands.
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Blessings,
Christine