Lonely the roses of Avondaire / 
sing as though somebody still may care.
They live only for the dream of living / 
so come follow where / 
they will take you there.
I once was apprenticed / 
to a man who was living
in the eye if the hurricane / 
to know despair,
He knew all the dreams by heart / 
just like sailing in a boat of crystal silence / 
seeing visions / 
of the world / of life within a life.
In a turning / 
like a burning / 
came turning /
out of everything stirring / 
and what had begun before
but all wrapped up / 
in one great godly becoming -
Tumbling / 
and fumbling / 
and stumbling
into bumbling / 
and rumbling along -
whirling it / 
and swirling it / 
and twirling it / 
and hurling it /
and overturning it / 
and burning it again.
I shared a whirling dervish out on the side of a hill called metaphore vivace
swinging en route to a nascent solar / 
with the scissored visored blizzard
wizard /
gizzarding planets and secrets within / 
like an avatar.
While meanwhile / 
in turnstyling / 
and spinning over him
spells bespeaking kingdoms in the dark
calling me to yield / 
knighting me in a field / 
covered with armies
and with princes. All were signing / 
cannons shining / 
pennants flying.
And when he spoke to me he sang / 
and his words really rang -
this child of the knowledge of the beauty of the night -
he sang to me of masters passing on / 
of father after father after father
climbing up into the lotus bloom / 
upon the tortoise's back
and of grandfathers / 
who danced through their living a longer time ago.
He showed me a palace in time / 
in which all the talismans
from all the zeuses / 
swing upon a pendulum of secrets
in a circle that remembers / 
and when asked a question will surrender
every secret key to every hero's message / 
given to every heart in time
but only known to but a few /or so it seems.
When I asked of them / 
what shall I do / 
to see the god?
They only said / 
the goldenrod / 
which grows inside of
every secret dream you dream / 
while waiting for the god -
it-s a symbol from the man in the fire.
ling you the thing you desire
is a garment that covers the riddle of everything secretly wished for
and of the world of which you are an inheritor.
Suddenly the chamber was flooded with light /
hurling me skyward like a meteorite/
When I fell to earth / 
I saw everything in a blur.
I saw that time was accelerating in a curve
and the palace in which I had stood / 
it was flowing, like lava, on acres of
woodland
like a pompei-an mountain volcano / 
making archipelago
and destroying the planet / at fortissimo
bulldozing everything down / 
to make room for what
was a byzantine / 
a labarynthine / 
knotty mess of
manifolding passageways / 
a tangle of confusion /
where the walls made / 
an asylum of baroque.
Like a joke / words were spoken
to provoke me / and to toss me
nude and empty / to the sea.
But I would have none of it.
I simply turned my back and walked out/ 
of the dreamscape/
into landscape / 
like a bedroom / where I heard that
Lonely the roses of solitaire / 
sing as though somebody still may care.
They live only for the dream of living / 
so come follow where they will take
you there.
Stay awake - no mistake - dance the dream awake - and awake."