Valley of Nowhere

 

Valley of Nowhere
 
No phones, no cell phones,
no camera phones,
no text message, no jokes,
no forwards on email,
no ipods, no itunes,
no droning sounds
of media blips and beeps,
no parties,
no chatter,
that does not matter.
Perhaps the best phone calls
are the ones we miss.
 
I hear two rings, 
sometimes one,
and they ring
in a spaceless place
of being awake in my dreams,
and I open my eyes
to wander
into an unexplored 
wilderness,
dancing my way
into a cloud
filled with the light
of unknowing delight.
 
Words can build
a stairway to the stars
or launch us
into spinning galaxies
of images,
whirl us into the
silence of solar winds,
to hear the echoes
of an energy
bridging the worlds of
words and winds.
 
Spirit guides us
through a pathless land
on a creative
journey to the soul.
 
Talk of dinner
or the news
or mind numbing details
of a droning day
sends us spiraling
in a tailspin to
the ground
ending the dance.
 
Longing does not wish
for worldly words.
Pour the wine
and meet me in moonlight
that illuminates
the heart.
 
Dance along the rim
of a canyon
that peers into sea of the soul.
Only the heart knows
the way.
 
The great ones
wander
in the ether somewhere
out there
playing in a secret place
one can only
fall into
following brush strokes
to the sunrise
or drifting in
 the delicate and unseen embrace
of a breeze
caressing the soul.
 
The wind mourns
and hums
through the bamboo trees
breathing love
and some hearts
are bound
to follow where it goes.
 
We wander in
spaceless dimensions on
timeless journeys
to placeless destinations
with
faceless lovers.
 
All we leave behind are
traceless trails
of transparent colors
and the sounds
of joy
and laughter.
 
N.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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