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Dreamland
20 March, 2012
Author: Jeanne Fiedler

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I see many people
writing clear, concise,
grammar driven sentences
about life and love,
analyzing like psychiatrists.
I, for one, am not one of these...

I could be, but I want to write
like a mystic, dreamy, unclear,
flowing beautifully, dazed, a
little bit...

Loving... a lot of loving
and the dreams fulfull
my love. I want to write
from the right side -
plus the left to integrate
it - but I want it done
like a surrealistic sensory
experience. Loving the dream,
the fantasy, the mystic, the
mystery connected to the
drumbeat of the commune.
The honed in lense lighting
the whole area with pink to
conceal and protect from all
evil...

To help you see withbout being
too risky - loving would be remaining as would hoping, dreaming and wondering...

The light of the new earth
the dawning of the new universe
waving in starry forms...
bonding us in our expanded minds
luminously-protected safe and
sound - our realities would be
only what we need - the rest to
drift away from us, never to
be found...

Slow, thoughtful motives,
to ease the pain and hurt...
Life behind the rose lens,
seeing only the perfection as
maybe it is all perfect...
moving along...dancing to
rhythms in nature- elflike,
riding on the pagasus way out
to the depths of the blue,
blue earth...in space,
in the gaps of space where
I live and you live-watched
over by angels, seen like
visions and prophecies...
protected by peace of the
divine - the instant, the
instant of gazing into the
streams of moving golden
rays - rays of the rebrithing
of the sun...close to my
heartbeat...

------- Author's Notes -------

My writing is longing to change...-

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