The Technicolor Threshold: Consciousness & Divinity, Synchronous was written in September 2018 and has remained unpublished until now.

Listen to Suggested Audio

Hans Zimmer “Time (Instrumental Core Remix)”

Love is no great mystery to me
Sometimes it comes
Sometimes it goes
Sometimes it throws our whole lives into chaos
Sometimes it’s calm, others wild and unpredictable
Sometimes it charms us, disarms us at regular intervals
Principally it’s everything we dream of as children
Castles in the sky with insufficient sand to build them
Looking to the stars for inspiration as they pass on by
Wide eyes tend to narrow over time

It’s one almighty crime scene
When we find ourselves out of our depth
Ever timely reminder there’s meaning in every last breath
Every time that we die
It’s a little less likely to break the convention and make an address
Every time that we break down and cry
The well dries until finally nothing is left

This is where it works its magic
Tragic ends need not be met
Providing Kismet plays its hand
And we withstand the mass effect of love around us hounded from the precipice of ever after
Fast love drafts complaint against the art of passing up restraint
Taking it for granted that, chances are, our hearts will find a way
Staking claim on something this way coming should we play the game
Yet, unlikely to come our way again

It is nobody’s job
To make sure it’s implored that it dies not in vain
Should we view it as such
Then it sucks away breathable air and declares itself bound for escape
On the face of it, seems there is no other way
Than find peace in a dream, when true dreamers perceive the most handsome scene indeed when wide awake

Our souls to take
Yet, nothing doing
Something borrowed
Something ruined
Something blue and much ado about one thing with nothing much entrusted to amount to
Grass is green, when seen between the toes of those who trust their feet and leap into the endless sea of that we deem to need to duly see to ever truly be believed
Faith composes symphony to orchestrate a love so great that hate cannot perpetuate its retribution this or any other one fine day

Our souls to give
Yet, no one taking
Love sees us consolidating
Raising glass in toast to something steeped of class and all-embracing
Lending grace to that we hide away
Pending a tidal wave of feeling we reveal through inner sense and deeper comprehension
Sure, there’s tension
Sure, there’s fear
But sure enough, we face each test and ace it once we better dress for feathering our nests with plumes of evermore caressing

Love is no great mystery
And even less conundrum
Sometimes it comes
Sometimes it goes
Sometimes it burns like the great fire of London and straight to the rafters
Telling towering tales of fail-safe prevailing and narrowly averted disasters
Sometimes it throws our whole world into chaos
Sometimes it’s lost to us, others it’s found
Ever profound as it dumbfounds the doubters
Belief devout that we’re in with a shout
Should we give it the grace to amaze us
Astound us
Perch upon window sills, charmed by the trill of the songbird while it serenades us
Looking to the stars with the warmest of regards as they sparkle like a crucible of diamonds

Love is no great mystery to me
Two bleeding hearts imparting heal
Through inner sense, inclined to feel
To build a castle in the sky
To see once more through widest eyes
To brave each tidal wave that crashes
Make each one crisp waterfall
Nautical in fathoming the course of true love
Rise above the ashes of a passion play no longer shamed off-Broadway
Taking to the stage of the greatest ever love story untold and make it told
Be so bold and hold on tight
Break the code and crack the safe
Make off with a love so great
That it becomes no felony
An endless sea of that now seen, believed
Finding peace while wide awake, we truly dare to dream

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

Click here to purchase All of Me Vol. I, II, III, IV, V & VI

Click here to purchase on Amazon

© Copyright: Rivers of Grue™ Shadow Spark Publishing™