The Secret Place (11:11)
In the long days and moments of her dream wandering, she will discover the Secret Place.
She moves at peace through angel snow and forest, as a child that knows its way.
She comes with the hope of eternal sun, a rustling leaf melody and the bloom of life dancing to cicada’s electric hum.
Her eyes of wandering reflect what she has known, what has always lived there; older than blood and stone.
The old house awaits her return. It moves and stirs a dust from its powder sugared clapboard walls.
A fire creates a ghostly dance upon wood, bellowing chimney smoke into a starry mystery.
Her steps enter through a forsaken door; to hear cries of children of December, always longing for warmth and love.
The memory of children in summer sun, with the scent of burning honeysuckle and their small bare feet, run forever; so reverent and sure-
She knows her will, creates the dream of her wandering.
This house of secret refuge, like a man that awaits her return with calm fever, holding the vision
Sun bright on storm gilded wing, flying to her…
2017-(c) Duskflyer Vision Art and Writings