Cupped hands, filled with sunlight,
mind turned inward to its sight.
A breeze caresses quietly,
like rolling waves upon a sea
that breaks on shores of eternity.
In a distant place I stand,
on a far and silent land—
a planet, or so it seems—
where twin suns pour heavenly beams.
They shine through skies of fantastic hue,
rose and gold and tender blue,
coloring clouds in shifting streams,
stirring an inward recall of dreams.
I know I have walked this world before;
it calls my heart to cross once more—
back through time, through light, through door—
to the place that waits beyond the shore.
Michael Forrest- Poetic Archives circa 1975
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