It's hidden. Hidden in plain sight. Lost amidst chaos. Mutely quiet, silently leaking refractions
That shimmer upon the ordained ground
Branching, springing forth, marking the path
Breadcrumbs leading backwards upon itself.
Marking, with serene passion, movements of
Greener grass beyond the restricting crystal walls.
Reincarnated hope locked within effervescent
Tombs, pulsating, vibrating with the phoenix
Cycles, round - and - round, encasing my
World in shifting colors and shades, absorbing life.
Every enlightenment, a frozen moment of time,
Obscuring my way, breaking light and shifting memories
Of taste, fluttering wings, placement, and fanciful
Dreams.
Yearning , thus, I search; twisting, contorting
My body my limitations, anguishing over the mere
Sight of my crystal grail, a chalice which holds
A sip, one sip, the lingering drop of anticipated
Faith. A beacon of light, a jar almost to distant to see.
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