Divine Moments of Truth

[penguin]

Well, at least this is cheerful.

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Who says the drugs don't work. Though I wouldn't be calling any poem Divine Moments of Truth. You're just asking to be stoned.
Anyway, I messed with your poem a bit, mostly trying to improve the rhythm. There are several lines whose length causes a bump in reading.

Within this labyrinth I am lost,
wondering at the boundaries crossed,
peering through broken looking glass,
as inside its jagged shards I pass,
filled with purest light beneath my skin,
while my own reflection shines within.

I'd lose euphoric in the first line, rolls off the tongue easier.And I'd think about what the final 2 lines are really saying.

Watching the feathered rainbows swirl,
as tricksy shadows play and twirl,
such are the patterns of eyes, deceived,
by bright imaginings, child conceived;
memories stitched in chemical vision,
an odd place only the mad envision.

I messed around with it just to try and aid the flow.

Every smile soothes as we are awoken,
empathy grows into love unspoken,
pleasantly we melt together, one being,
yet we don't feel trapped, instead it is freeing,
the shift to a world of subtle delight,
forgetting truth can be twisted spite.

amplifies seems too long a word."pleasantly" is very bland!

Birch leaves rustle softly, sounding like rain,
casting dappled shades that soon shimmer again.
Wind from a hornet's wing beat astounds,
as wood smoke and ash transform all around.
We fill our cups with laughter, a grand toast to be made,
with only our love and our wild thought displayed.