Ivy and Jasmine,

Floors of stone,

White-blue light,

Shadows prone.

Groomed hands opened,

Oak cupboards trailing behind,

A dewy orb revealed,

Eyes and visions flowing.

In gossamer shade,

They danced,

Beckoning with hands,

Music their unsung language.

A pale smile came,

Thin like the air there,

Tempest blossoms bright,

By the day and by night.

Such is the rose gallery,

Friendship-forged token,

Woven thick like roots,

Hidden but unbroken.

The doors were shut,

And silence came.

On the other side,

A rocky alcove spoke,

Drapped by bounded mercury,

While threads of gold elope.

Hands made a path between,

The veil shifting,

A red glow deep down below,

Carrying upward.

The mists parted in a cave,

Limestone bells ringing,

Creatures white and blind,

Scrambling in the dark.

And deep down the vision went,

Tunnels wide and lighting spent,

Spiraling to his lair,

Form and face forgotten.

Mildew grew like fungus,

Networks of cracks underfoot,

Fetid pools fingering circles,

In step with his thoughts.

The grey fingers folded,

Broken nails prodding,

Pawing fear and circumstance,

Twisted minions toeing the lines.

Such is the cave,

With all its dark things,

Whispering to the surface,

Poisoned ramblings.

The curtain was closed,

And silence came.

Opposite the sitting place,

A common door ajar,

With rock and tendril parting,

Its comfort never far.

Lights passed in the distance,

Spheres floating along the canopies,

Turquoise and orange,

Forest fluourescents.

The area grew temperate,

As one passed by,

Revealing comforts in its reflection,

Bobbing like a lure.

It spoke of time and looms,

Threading through the tales,

Reflecting and reminding,

The goal not forgotten.

There they walked their ways,

Unbound,

Patience like the sands,

Of a horizontal hourglass.

Such is the forest,

A dream-cast glow,

Telling its secrets,

Above and below.

The door remained open,

And silence remained.

And now upon the sitting place,

Regarding that three-fold face,

Of visions locked away,

Is a single thought:

While time may venture company,

Into the folds of either three,

They have best kept at bay,

What is real, and what is not.

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