Friday 20 June 2014

Morfnoc-non

Morfnoc-non

Ideas rain from sleeves mounted where hearts leap,
From chests rigged from a yoke, once warmed in sleep.

"Born into air to fight for dreams" we are told in whispers,
Foot steps of the herd, heavy down the happy whistlers.

Mountains to climb become rocks on heads you see,
The legs we wear feet upon, are seen to grow steady.

And seeds planted there so we can run from the mound,
From under the rock placed down, instead we go round and round.

Life given so preciously, to grow, we seek nothing but this verity,
For all our time, we wonder what time is, and was, and will be with sincerity.

Human hands are tied to dance with the limbs in hypnotic tune,
Whilst time ticks on to its own melody, our lives are not immune.

To this dance in black and white, there’s only two ways a-street,
Let's walk a new parallel, against the grain, splinter we shall meet.

The tide is pulling from the dead, the time pulling at our strings,
Cut the cord, walk into the sea to be born of your own wings.

Inside the soul is a plant to nurture, give it all you have and muster,
Alike the clam upon the bed, we human each have a pearl to cluster.

Wolf 

Starring Nicholas Tasevski