A Magic Life

©1994 by Peter Bove´

A chime rings from a distant room

I repeat my longing to the moon
Who I am convinced listens
Yet responds not

A far cry from my very own imagined paradise of good intent

Created from glowing fragments of the society in which I reside
A brief yet enduring dream of those beckoned by longing hearts
For a less harmful engagement of their fellow man

Perhaps a goose neck slide into human benevolence

Like a third base runner sliding into home on a sacrifice fly
An agreement encountered as habitual

Time slays a distant gloom so I glimpse the meaning of faith

A harp-sung journey to the edge of night
Rearing a loose-knit fabric of brilliance of light
The mere allowance of the unknown its ballast
I sing for the moon a love song of tiny sorrows or disgrace

But wait
This?
On my face a smile?
To battle the tears of bewilderment?
Now so odd a moment which concerns itself with the reasons why
Man does as he does what believes he must

Now that my heart has been lifted

To the cosmic reaches of the moon and beyond
A galactic awakening in a simple milky way journey
Enthroned with the power of one; inside of which am I
Do I come forth to heed what is known by all
Ready or not as the simple truths

What is before me then I am to deduce is in fact what is before me

What is to come is yet to be and is not my own to foresee
But the unraveling in time
With much appropriate consequence…
A sweet magic life