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Marianne Faithfull “Tomorrow’s Calling”





Through the portal of reverie
I fly to you
The ash of my wings scatters like stardust
Nourishing the tall pines beneath
I feel free
Yet, I am kept
In a pendant no mortal hands can open
Here we recite unspoken tongue
And the curse of the ancients is finally broken


Night skies ripple in our wake
Rising and falling with each breath escaping
We climb to fresh high above the clouds
To reach the precipice of boundless rewakening
Soaring akin to black eagle
Our altitude is untold of mystical lore
For never before has the earth appeared so miniscule
For never before have the heavens so lamented their lack of credence
Have the flames of hell swelled just to light the horizon
Have the flowers bloomed in bones assumed of wither by the elders
Bereft of impedance


Felt in every sweltering sinew
Every tendon
Every DNA strand
Every subatomic particle
Divorced of the flesh
A mere article of fancy
Farcical and arbitral to heirarchy nonsensical
Dead cells no longer requisite
As we prepare to adopt our ultimate form
Yet gentle of feature
Creature of both night and day in wreathe
Nourishing the tall pines beneath which the air of sweet divinity we infinitely breathe


Through the portal of reverie
I return to you
With bleeding rose betwixt my teeth
Staining the buds of my lips as we sweep through the ether
Wed of tether unbreakable
Unchanging as a child’s smile in the first blush of spring
Severed are the ties of bind
And blind are our all-seeing eyes
Listening intently to the whispering waves that flow overhead
As the tiny earth plummets farther into our slipstream
Through the portal of reverie
We dream a reawakened dream
Merged into one being
Undressed of our mortal veils fleeting


We are pure love here
We are flawless
Clear as crystalline
Adored by the universe existent in our eyes
Deliberate strangers to the range of space and time
Ne’ermore endangered
Or pained to delight
As we fly with fancy greater than that credited to nature
Champagne skies toast our consummate rise
Amidst the tears of supernova
In explode of stolen centuries awhile
Reclaimed of diamonds embellished in a smile
Crowned of unabating renown
Through the portal of reverie
I become We
You become I
And the angels wash our feet
Nourishing the tall pines beneath
Amidst whispered I love yous
We breathe
We are kept
Yet, we are free






Richard Charles Stevens


Keeper of The Crimson Quill




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