Ignite. Find your fire.
Aspire. Reach. Reach upward. Reach inward.
Grasp at the glittering fragments of God and the Universe within your being.
Don’t deny the destiny of the ions within your living crust
that long to break away and connect with the Consciousness of the cosmos.
Orion stands proud and strong
and looks down upon our ungrateful faces
with a mournful look on his ancient brow.
The lights in his eyes sparkle without boundary;
sparkle despite the ungrounded complaints in our minds.
Emotions build a giant mass of towering obstruction
blocking off the sun, the air; the rigid, reassuring reminder of reality;
not allowing the usual broad-minded deduction
that the eye within the spirit can clearly see.
Courage – so easy to speak of this concept of fortitude;
the display – not so simple, is it now?
The presence of which in one’s context may elude,
the elusion of which we should not allow.
Relentless restlessness;
like the unremitting ebb and flow of the tide,
the interrupting, enabling commotion does not dawdle,
the visits are short and pointed.
Objective: to interfere
with the Electricity jumping hoops
between linkages in the circuitry of our Thought.
Johannesburg: head in the clouds…
The masses of soft and inviting pillows
carrying our cares away on lovely, floaty billows.
Swirling,
twirling,
unfurling;
evaporating our sorrows in a wispy rush of delight.
And thus we descend into the dreamy night
wherein we can assess our flaws by pools of ashy light:
assess the process to regress into madness.
Frantic pin-pricks poke metaphorical holes in the fabric of my being;
the soft cottony material that envelops my thoughts, actions and words.
Holes stretch, become gaping voids, contents expelled into the universe,
searching for new quarters wherein to quarantine their quota of data.
So the sun’s journeys pass;
the leaves turn to warm autumn colours.
As the fronds find the end of their days
upon the ever-so-light breeze,
the totality of their purpose is revealed.
The narrow mind finds its deconstruction
in the narrowness of its recesses,
the shrinking of the passages due to
mindless subscription to popular opinion.
A line aligns with other lines, and collectively, make a beeline
for you to see the rigid, solid connectors –
the confused threads flex, then intertwine,
awkwardly dividing the masses of people
into faceless boxes, into an anonymous steeple.
Continue reading
Situation:
sly, cunning, conniving,
sneaky little gurgles emanating evil thoughts
create the stinging cold within my bones.
