The dreamer dreams with no memory
Arcane, dead sounding, hushed, soundless thunder, hammers out rhytmn
The dreamer senses change
Effervescing, velvet words spinning times' jewelled moon, the web-catchers' handicrafts, the big bald moon spinning; that old adage, shooter of time, oath catcher.
Velvet words' time keepers
Time stops
Infinite blue, immaculate, perfect blue, sharp edged, crystal time horizon, evolutionary, new by design; an endless sky cradling the warm earth below; a white concrete plane, elementally pure, blue framed, geometrically precise divining lines, forming circles within squares, bask in the balmy, spectral light of an equatorial sun.
A tightrope walkers horizon, centrally balanced on a concrete, cubed platform, an architects diving board where all lines meet, the edge to a sublime new world, falling away below; a silvery, perfectly circular portal, calm flat.
Dead upright, feet perched together, firmly fixed to the cube's edge underfoot, I become aware of a time slot in space, as if cut by a quick, silver blade. Sidewise, feline beauty silently graces me with her presence; mirroring one another, we stand balanced as one, unspoken words sense depth, an impeccable integrity, built of trust, holds this space
.
Ascending serpentine bodies, upwards stretched, arms aimed straight, in prayer to the heavens, we fall forward into a rolling dive. The horizon tips upside down, we enter the centre of the circle, like diving birds spilling into dream-like chroma worlds; emerald green, cobalt, silvery hues, ethereal sheets of light moving all about us. We divine the reality of the pool, dead falling, effortlessly plunging, deeper and deeper, deeper still, faultlessly plummeting the depths with effortless grace.
A singular thought engages my mind, momentarily confounding me, feeling a mile deep, the sky a mile high, anxiety enters a memory crack in time, in an instant, the pool bottom travels up to meet us; like dolphins swim, our arched bodies roll in a curve, we start the ascent to the air-circle. Chromium bubbles rise up the silvery tube like hot air balloons; the distant air-circle, gateway to the heavens looks like a flying saucer, quivery and silver, shape shifting and growing ever larger. In mirror motion, hands gesturing towards the sky, intent with desire, we split the pools surface, infinite blue, immaculate, perfect blue.........