Alchemisland

As I lay in my bed 

Watching trees sway 

Sweeping thought away 

At cogency’s cusp

Images of rare potency 

Quare exothiques, phantasy 

I wonder about the grave

Which awaits the made

On their way to be created 

Great Mason, increate 

Wicked, wise, hidden, limnal

Many will slake from the Lethe 

Not in my case

Weaving Norns sitting sightless teasing out in hempen twine as fits a hawser hauling a trawler into place the icy, solmort end of time

A pattern designed ad hominem, knitting

A roaring river hymnal, ripping

Lifting raining helm, dripping 

Mnemosyne to lip, spilling over 

I will not transmigrate

Away, I will away from grasping light 

Dilettante shameless effulgence, orpiment odalisque rising fiery obelisk tipped with eye unlidded 

Transubstantiating to lighter forms 

Atomscattering airward, God willing

Trilling with winds awhistle 

Carrying Epistles forward through time like Cronos’ missiles