Graced

Here is the drum roll into ancestry.

The flowers are in their radiant dresses

Release a score of greeting.



The divine reflection as shone from

Our beloved teacher

Who in true commune radiated out to society.



The poet in his flying suit

Passed during the full moon as

We continued in the state of awake.



In this realization, we are burning

From this great mystical one

The heart is unable to escape.



© Nov 2010 -Sonja J Johnston for Art Willis (1936-2010)

Hypnos

Stone Lyre in hand,

 half-sleep under a voussoir,

 the spleen of the cave bellows,

Crystal temple of illusion.

In a thousand journeys

my eyes are still of stone

in need of waking,

holding only the inconsistent

glow of the moon.

Sonja J. Johnston  © 19-Oct-2010 (for Thomas Regiert)