DREAMS OF COLOUR seems to flutter and expand like butterflies that have approached my door and through the portals of my sense would soar that sometimes on my head would come to land and oftentimes my shoulder or my hand on light that streams in from directions four they’re born like waves that lap upon the shore inscribing hieroglyphs upon the sand notations I would seek to understand— its music translate from the written score composed from intervals of metaphor and like a songbook placed upon a stand to sightread off the pages of my mind transpose the colours into poems of sound for though my soul can see, my spirit’s blind and during its sojourn on Earth is bound by testimony of the soul to find its way, and insofar as this is found then when the soul must leave this world behind the rolls will then reverse and turn around and in the other world, when they’re affined, will bridal hymns and nuptial odes resound for soul and spirit have their fates entwined in Heaven wedded and their heads be crowned by all experience of humankind
