Dim Dark Doorway ScrapFirst Cut-up Version (Liminal Park Sequence)

And shadows of shapeless dreams abide
Where life may abide no more

Algernon Charles Swinburne

… prophecy as no more than fleeting dreams, fragile south, looking through times & space, mother giving the divine meaning / virtue and light, drawn from things sailed to the mysterious otherworld, different gaze changes the world like shades of the high bushes / fate which could, or might be there, everything childhood; happiness, coming rather not too far from him, & this grey wind; a few tumbled sand-hills transfigured by playing & writing different inner spaces colliding into and of memories, looking back on dreaming awareness, & this not so of small dimensions but strikingly inhabited by the querent / as otherworld seen … a sea-god and star-guide not to be trusted; perverse woman, sea, wind-ragged mist, foam, spray, pass through the well or spring, awhile the coach passed on from the past; things that have run seaward; little, bare, white unknown seas, that mysterious sea lit goddess, guarding the gateway to the dusk along the park’s ditches & blowing sand; nothing beyond, but there, outlandish voices & her activity feeding her dream … over a map … may be literally an ordinary & not so unseen man who sits in the form of consciousness and adulthood /

Liminal Park Crossway

#Scrying Scraps