i breathe upon the seasons of the wind;
sipping a tea of spring breeze
like a sealed tornado in this void
let us together make a chaos out of order
from this Pale Blue Dot, sitting in Nowhere
we are walking in the bridge of its immensity
and I am rolling into a ball of perspectives
snowballing through the Divine force
that holds everything in their hiddenness
this polaroid dream seems to be a blurry proof
of all things uncertain but seems to be a picture of Truth
and I would touch everything to say:
I am This, I am That
and my heart restarts while life replays again
now I adore the stalactites
awakened by the golden light
I want to wear the sleeves of poetry
although at moments, illusive; irrelevant
they paint shades of lilac and purple
on the tapestries of my sorrow fields
blanketed with lilies, hyacinths, and carnations
it seems forever that I have inhaled the
beating sounds of colors, because for a moment
I have shut down, stitching my shadows
to the fabric of my sacred bones
I am an incarnated ink of the sound of words
written upon the blank canvas
to be spilled
and to be overjoyed with the mess of Divine
as I swim through the subtle passages
in a sea of rainbows
I found no end beyond my purples.
