A Forgotten Sense Of Being

Swimming.

I gently stroke the wetness,

forcing the flood to unfurl before me.

I glide towards the sensuous depths

of the salt-water lake.

The ebony surrounds me

and I yield to the pleasure

of flickering ripples licking my nakedness.

The moon is full, bright,

and shifts the pool of water

into a shimmering mass of silver pearls;

me, a white angel amongst the blackness.

Submerging.

A strange warm coldness

enfolds my existence, emitting

me into an archaic abyss of

a creation I had forgotten.

Dark, dense film clings to my eyes;

yet I foresee all.

The wetness probes my every pore -

a lush black liquid -

yet I breathe.

The water washes away my senses

and I surrender my soul to a prehistoric pleasure

long forgotten in the spell of time.

I am ageless,

an immortal Goddess, the angel of devils;

an eternal divinity.

Soaring.

My body slices through the silky, black world;

I am a mermaid in a fairy-tale,

enticing her prince.

The moon is my prince

and the stars, my protectors.

Thunder heaves my chest;

an essence beckons me and

I call to the stars, beyond the stars,

to all of my forebears,

my reincarnations.

Take me! Free me!

I invoke infinity,

the embracing warmth of

something ancient, intimate;

something buried in the bleakest bowels,

the darkest domain of my soul....

until now.

It is alive, burning within me.

It is free, I am free.

I know nothing but self;

MYSELF.

I shall taste no other;

I shall never be dead again.

(1997)

A Place Within My Dreams

I am a figment

Of my imagination.

I do not belong to the past,

Nor do I belong to the present;

But to my own time.

A time where there is

Happiness and glory,

Where no one's ever

Sad nor dreary.

Where there is

Peace and Goodwill,

Not jealousy nor hatred.

This is the place

Within my dreams.

A place which is alive, but

Polluted by people with

No care for others,

But if we work together;

This place can be

What it once used to be.

This place is called EARTH.

EARTH is where I belong;

And one day it shall be,

What it once used to be.

Dianna Hardy, Autumn, 1990

(age 11)

VISIONS

You seemed strong,

you fell apart;

I seemed weak,

I grew.

You walked the earth

in search of truth;

I searched myself,

and knew.

You soared the skies

and sailed the seas

seeking hallowed

ground.

I watched you hunt

the great outdoors;

I looked inside,

and found.

I don't know why

I touch the stars,

Or why my soul

flies free;

I don't know why

I stroke the breeze;

I only know,

I see.

(1997)