Where moonbeams caress the veil of night,

Among stones bathed in celestial light,

Beneath the constellations, a tale is molded,

Amidst whispering leaves, John's story is unfolded.

Here stands John, a soul profoundly spent,

Where shadows merge with flowers' scent.

A sailor of destiny, through tempests and calm,

He searches for solace, some healing balm.

From youthful vigor to the twilight of years,

Through joy and sorrow, hope and fears.

Through valleys of despair, over mountains of mirth,

John traverses so many pathways of Earth.

From the innocence of youth, where dreams take flight,

To the burdens of age, in the waning light.

Through love's embrace, and loss's cruel sting,

John's odyssey is a poignant, mortal thing.

Through whispered secrets, neath stars that dance,

Necromantic whispers of silent cadence,

John moves quietly among the mute monoliths,

In pursuit of truth as told in mystic myths.

In gardens of time, where past and present meet,

He walks with ghosts, in meditation bittersweet.

Each step a story, each glance a tale,

In the theater of life, where truths prevail.

John is led by Michael, sage and astute,

A guide so wise and a seeming transmute

Together they plumb profound depths of a dream,

Where subconscious secrets quietly teem.

Visions of slumbers, magpies, dark, white, azure,

Emblems of odysseys, and the arduous tour,

From the clutches of heartbreak to the shelter of mirth,

In heavenly gardens of transcendent worth.

A monolith, vast and devoid of inscription,

A custodian of narratives, of fact, and of fiction,

In the garden where the Blue Lotus serenely thrives,

Full of wisdom, beauty, and of immoderate size.

Within these dreams, the voice of John's maternal guide,

Her spirit washes over him, 'tis a comforting tide,

She guides him through the tempestuous sea of grief,

To a realm where love and peace give relief.

Where once her love, so tender, so mild,

In the folds of memory, cradled her child.

Her whispers soft as silk, in night's embrace,

Guided John through time, in gentle grace.

Annie, sister dear, a spirit light,

Dancing in the meadows, just in sight,

Her laughter echoes for all to hear,

Ever laughing, and loving, and ever near.

Yet amidst this quest for a shore serene,

Lurks a specter in his psyche, entirely unseen,

A phantom ancestor, missing for years,

An apparition on psyche's spent-life frontiers.

A specter of regret, of unsaid words,

His presence in the wind, in the songs of birds.

In this garden of stars, where dreams are sown,

A father's shadow, silent and alone.

"Confront your history," the spirits entreat,

"Within it truths live, though bittersweet,

The key to serenity, to conclude your strife,

Lies in understanding your former life."

In the crucible of life character is made,

"John face your fears, face them unafraid.

From the cradle's embrace to the grave's cold hand,

Your journey through time, through space, in Dreamland."

With a heart laden, yet with vision unclouded,

John embraces the fears that long have been shrouded.

In the lunar-bathed garden, where he takes his stance,

To face the engine of the past's advance.

In visions, in stellar fields, in nocturnal gentle fold,

He fought the anguish, the sorrows retold.

Through weeping and trials, his spirit rages,

In pursuit of solace, his pain it assuages.

Through seasons of joy, through winters of woe,

John's odyssey sails on a ceaseless flow.

In the dance of time, in the rhythm of life,

He embraces each moment, of joy and of strife.

As stars above whisper secrets of yore,

John's spirit soars and soars evermore.

In the quiet and the darkness, where dreams go to perch,

He finds his peace, in the night's high church.

As his odyssey settles under night's moonlit dome,

John discovers that his heart is at home.

In recollections tender, in love's gentle call,

He finds his solace, his everything, his all.

Loved ones’ essences linger in the moonlit shade,

Guiding his steps, so sure and unafraid.

He feels their touch, in the breeze's kiss,

In this dreamy reunion, he finds his bliss.

So sails our John, in dreams' vast sea,

With love's guiding stars, forever free,

In the embrace of night, in memory's glow,

He finds his peace, in the starlight's flow.

Thus concludes the chronicle of John's nocturnal quest,

A spirit once adrift, now in eternal rest.

In the garden of stars, in the realm of dreams,

His odyssey ends… or so it seems.

© 2022 William A. Smith

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