a walk, on a moonlit path

[vurtomatic]

i walk this path, of the pale
wan moon: she walks
with me, on this path
so light, it floats
and i, with it.
she marks this path, my heart
a map: she walks so well;
when, i adrift, she finds,
and carries me
along, afloat.
on a path aglitter,
we walk, this night
missing her moon, and i
mooning her,
of my night.
on a path, trailing, glittering
a star came by,
almost invisible by
my lady’s face
brightened more, impossibly,
i look, i bask, i moon
in her light we speak
of the heavens, the musical spheres
and the songs they sang;
of the clouds, gossamer dreams
so fragile, so precious
mists under a summer
morning’s sun
of the silly lives of men
(of which, i sadly am)
scrabbling on this rock
searching for their place
where, everywhere
is nowhere is here
the centre
of the infinite
dream, gossamer mists
under a summer morning’s sun,
our paths, one path,
happened upon a mirrored lake,
lapping this path of light
edged with limpid dark;
we fall into, ourselves and through,
the quiet still, of fading gloom
of circles within, circles without
time, a placid face, ripples.
and into the waters of time
we pass, my lady and i,
and a star
and i awoke, from a walk
dreamt, on a moon-lit
path.
this is something, again different, from what i'd normally write, in terms of theme/subject matter. would appreciate comments on the feel of this; i'll post later with what i was driving for (but i think the "feel" is pretty obvious). im pretty happy with it at the moment, though that sentiment might change when i wake up

 

[belisimo]

It has a great rhythm, and very mystical, i like it

 

[frostyangel]

and i awoke, from a walk
dreamt, on a moon-lit
path.
if this was in your dreams of which you write, I would really like to be in your dreams...

 

[vurtomatic]

thanks for the comments.
this was something different for me in that, i was trying to write from the point of view of a storyteller i suppose, somewhat detached, as though retelling a dream or fairytale.
im not gonna explain it, u can work it out for urself, thought i might have to tweek the imagery a bit
but it seems to be lacking that feel of mystery and uncertainty... akin to the feeling of being woken up, mid-dream, and one is not sure which is real, and which is the dream; the dreamer or the dreamt, but im not sure how to approach it, or deliver that across