Mystery is a dance to the moonlight.
A white flower left untamed,
untouched, or else it spoils.
Ghosts of the unknown dancing
on the sun’s grave. It is their realm now.
The titans of worlds past
woo my eyes away from the screen and lazy fan
away from summer or winter,
spring or fall,
away from time’s endless dance.
Like a pearl, in the moon it glisters
hinting there’s more to come.
The great fields I knew, now unexplored,
seduce me out of my wedlock to the ordinary.
Slowly, touching my soul,
they remind me of all that I do not know.
The worlds I will never see,
beaches with purple sands on which I havn’t stood.
Mysetry.
It wants me,
it calls me.