Out of the Mist
I dreamt that I might find my way
on a mountain path from long ago.
High on the slopes of Mount Wudang,
where endless clouds, flow soft below
to carry me back to the time of the Tang.
I dreamt I heard the masters pray
on a mountain top with Kublai Khan.
When out of the mist came old Xuanwu,
to guard the land in the days of the Yuan
with all the things the ancients knew.
I dreamt my path led far away
to a place I knew so long ago.
Where heaven measures Yin and Yang
and endless dreams, flow soft below
to carry me back to the time of the Tang.
Currently appearing in
Blinking Cursor Literary Magazine
Issue Three 2010
www.colincampbell.org updated 22 July 2010
The Bite.
Currently appearing in
The Straitjackets Magazine
"Bull shit," said Big Betty as she snatched the remains of the roll-
"No, it's true. People don't see what's really happening," Richard said each word slowly like it was important. He got back to struggling with ..........
Colin W Campbell
