[Originally written Spring, 2003]
Silently she stands,
as spectacular beams of light radiate from her body in glasslike fingers that stretch past forever,
each brilliantly illuminated with passion and fervor of the dream's essence.
Unscathed by internal conflicts that have raged beneath the surface for years,
she basks in its amorous glow
with the serenity of an infant, cradled in its mothers tender, protective arms.
Her five innate senses spontaneously engage and speak to one another,
blending into a smooth serum that flows warm through her veins like rainbow-colored bliss.
Secretly, her psyche mimics a ravenous parasite,
Relentlessly feeding off the dream's magnificent soul, expressing no regard for the sanctity of its mere existence.
Like raindrops as they meet the parched deserts floor, the spirit of the dream is mercilessly,
Without warning, casualties of countless inner battles are swiftly yet respectfully collected from the combat zone,
and cast from the arena by powerful hands, heavy with both relief and anxiety.
Crippling notions of inadequacy,
doubts of worthiness,
and beliefs of futility
abruptly collapse, annulling their collective pledge to immortality;
Their uninvited and deafening screams,
once debilitating and inescapable,
now forever silenced,
slain by their own toxic sword.
Dancing gracefully with its newfound freedom,
with the elegance of a dove against the heaven's cobalt canvas
as it dances on the wind,
at long last,
the dream's essence unites with the melody's heart.
For its cadence,
conducted by the hands of the universe,
is audible only to the soul.