I am the divine light, come and drink of me that you might be whole.
May the nectar dance upon your lips as you sip and drink your fill.
You are my heart and I will be your guide in the darkness.
Become one with me.
Dance with me.
For I am you.

I too will be a shadow,
and you my distant final light.
Your astonishment is profound,
but has no substance.
You are my clouds;
I, your shadow.
You are my sky;
I, your shadow.
You are my waters;
I, your shadow.
You are my fire;
I, your shadow.
Accept your fate.
Accept your soul.
Then clasp to your gray Autumn.
Fall into your desires.
Accept your shadow.

Black Waters Poem

So...this poem was written in either 1998 or 1999. It's interesting now that I can look at it with a new perspective and know that there was, indeed, a very powerful consciousness trying to connect with me from beneath the glassy surface of the Puget Sound.

Notice that it's a poem of questions. I was seeking and was so close to the answers. They were, quite literally, staring me in the face.

Black waters, black waters, black.
Do you see me?
When I greet you, eye to eye,
who reflects whom?

Vast mirrored surfaces
undulating, hypnotic.
Caress me - I am lost.
If I shed a tear,
should it fall upon your brow,
would it touch you?
Would you notice?

The velvet velour
of your skin entices.
Shall I?
Shall I crawl
into your silken arms to sleep?
Deep sleep,
the sleep of a thousand nights,
would you wake me?

Black waters, black waters, black.
Do you hear me?
When I yell into your wake,
who entreats whom?

I have been bound and muted,
lost and ignored,
buried deep within and forgotten.

I have been shackled and chained,
whipped and restrained,
my light dimmed and smothered - darkened.

I am lost and at once found.
I am frail, yet strong.
I have fallen, but still I rise -
and I sing, and I shout, and I cry.

Disengaged

Blue, and I’m falling,
crying as sparrows do;
silently dying
in a puddle of rain.
Imagine I’m brilliant.
Conjure me pretty.
Build me some friends
out of play-doh and paint.
I catch myself sleeping,
crouched in my corner;
the friends in my head
simmered down for awhile.
The storm fills my mind,
my soul for a flower;
it smells like a sneeze,
so I’ll cover my nose.