Vision

Feel the potential of the pencil, it shall set you free, thought upon masterpiece, let your visions flee. Brilliance deeper than the world's oceans, burst from a neglected paper's still motions. Sealing my eyes, I reach for reality, and stroke a visual commotion of uncertainty. Walking beyond the seams with persistence, I see, feel, and receive colors beneath existence. Your yellow is my blue and green, but to your eyes this had not yet been seen. Devouring me, my spirit is ventured via ineffable infinities, through vast plains between two lovers' hearts. It's the arts that release dreamed mountainous pretense, deserting distrust in a world of heartfelt suspense. It is I who builds the shrine and sings praise to artistry, so come all mortals and ensue the poetic prophecy. Diddling inspiration of a thousand legends, all rejoice, the heroic symphony accompanies my inner voice. Verse by verse, flowing my dimensional wave, harmony is stirred in a cadence of rave. It gently paves my reasoning with rhyme, like wind blowing over and sweeping the mind, The awakening breeze, radiantly jaunts its peak, committing an avail of healing, to those who are weak. Inspired in this secret haven, the world I depart, still sleeping secretly within my familiar heart. Gust entangles my body, guilt overwhelmed, straining my being to return midst this realm. My thoughts on paper, stack in collaboration, and scatter my mind's temptation of deep creation. The lead then breaks an ambitious sensation, and snaps me out of my dream concentration. My eyes now open to the obsession, sitting with muteness, I am left in question. Do we all hold diverse perceptions of reality, or is perception our own reality? Is it a constant reality, or just a reality constant? Was it real, or just a dream? No one can take it from me, it was my reality... (c) Joe Ulisses 2001 Written November 17th, 2001 © on Feb 05 2002 02:39 PM PST   0 • 13