The dunes of Xanadu are haunted
by a charismatic orb
rising out of the sublime
where oneiromancers divine
nocturnal bridges, frequencies
of place and time, of sound and sight
as lunar mountains redefine
their enigmatic lines of flight.
The luminous, mysterious
enchanter roams dark labyrinths,
conjuring their hidden portents
into images of dance,
awakening the siren waters,
gilding limpid lips with flame,
until the oracles they frame
subside in midnight lullaby;
riding on sleek dolphin torsos,
frothing rock-pools with champagne,
reclaiming pulverised millennia
of sands in heaven's name.
The dunes of Xanadu, baptised
in lunar chrism, nacre, brine,
awaken, purified, from their long
slumber in primeval mind,
as all the creatures of the deep
aspire to radiance on high
that emanates from lustrous
pearl pavilions of serene design.
The Dunes of Xanadu by Moonlight
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2004
Свидетельство о публикации №104021000803
Свидетельство о публикации №104021000803
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