The Ruby King

“This too is within your grasp, he whispered---
the empty shell, a balloon,
hard baked and dusted visions of yesterday…”
With his green ring
Waits the ruby king;
A parting cloud on a fat grey sky,
His word is music.

Before his swirling feet,
Between ambition and striving
I count the time I have lost or gained.
Cent by cent
For what is fully spent.
Sharing your eyesight

Tears float away on little silver feet
Racing to the water
Like raindrops plocking the puddle.
Yellow chips of caution float away
On a forgetful river
As though waking to a shimmering self---
As though a glimmering dawn.

Black puddle---substance dissolving
I seek consubstantial self in prayerful vigil,
To find the magic king.