A point of light, the pupil of a great inverted eye
prominent in the sky as one floats inside the aquae vitae of uncertainty
luminous fleck of moonshine halos and mare oceans
break the uniform monotony of the window
looking out into the white expanse of void 

Fairy chimes in tinkling, twinkling, playful twinning
the sound of mirth and wordless joy,
poly-rhythmic water gushing, rapids churning
serving as the sonic backdrop for the
simple sigh of midnight wind 

Crickets chirp, cicadas thrumming,
Rhythms in each breath of time a-dancing, twirling, leaping
through strange harmonic melodies that existed long before t’were names
a gentle lullaby of evening drifts across the sky
but Prussian blue stained black, a window from the soul’s shadowy
microcosm to the ceiling of the starlit cathedral of the spheres
where pale watery moonlight plays, until
the blossoming of russet-tinged morn'

New day, new night, twilight and rosy dusk, where wafts
a sound of laughter mirroring the strains of music—NO—for
music is but in itself a human imitation of the laughter of a muse
and the twinkle-twinkle of the stars is like the beauty of a smile
as streaks of fire meteors trail across the dome of heaven
winking in a dance of evening fireflies
to a wanderer struck dumb by ethereal radiance
overwhelmed by force of the message behind a honeysuckle:
the bonds of love, affection, as an artist for a muse 

Synchronicity 'plies coincidence, though there is no such thing
everything a portion of a bigger pattern, in butterfly effect
 nd chaos theory weaving and reweaving
buts, cannots, and shall bes, into a tapestry of new beginnings
the potent liminalities where everything is possible,
already having had been, in past lives and angel requiems
in verdant gardens, fields of dreams

A hint of smile, quiet moments alone with someone else
a soft warmth within the circle of one’s arms
one-two-three waltzing shyly in words, and thought, and deed
on a glass and marble dance floor perched on
wispy cirrus clouds, whiling away hours of creative interplay
musing upon amusement and a muse who in the heart remains
long after quiet conversations and silences have passed
when undiscovered countryside of distant future is the now 

A blush, a furtive glance, and the touch of knowing gazes,
as two strangers set apart by time meet by serendipity
'midst roses and paste and twilight,
walking onwards towards the dawn