I seek to make
a journey of a kind,
into the buddha face.
As if soft eyes hold,
answers to hope.
A lustre that says
I do not sleep,
but time my breath
my circadian dreams,
to the rhythm of stars.
We are all travellers
within the enigma
of a conscious mind.
Do you know to hope,
see what I see?
Do you cleave green seas?
I hold my life entire
in fragments of
long forgotten song.
My visage serene, or
maybe too tired to frown.
Step away now, or feel
my chameleon breath
enter your eyes and
stir the fronds
of a faux eternity.
©️ Dai Fry 30th May 2020.