The Place of My Contemplation

Phantasmal in its construction,

enchanting in its realisation,

a place where residing is welcome,

solitude disturbed only by the whimsy of imagination.

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There is a place that consumes that twilight field on the edge of sleeping.

In this world of impulse and fancy,

mysteries conjuring enigmas,

even the hallucinations are illusory.

~~~

Undertones haunt,

of faintly sinister presences.

Companions on the impenetrable quest.

Their unreal deviances becoming peripheral.

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Revelatory images,

solid as ethereal forms can be.

Pulsing through the veins of this earth come the grandiose, the pompous, the prosaic and the lusterless.

In this ancient place we are forever young and easily led through its arcane mysteries,

the unknowable is unexpected.

 

~~~

This is our place, the place of escape,

the place we never escape.

The fancy of ingenious fantasy or the cage of the unwary.

We dare to dream because we forget, we dare to dream for we must.