I kneel before the Power, an act of consoling. tears exit my eyes and breathe, one after the other. feeling here, fingers grab elbows and the tips of two pairs of feet. if the words stored within the crevices of knees, armpits and behind hairy ears are poisonous, let us see to it that they stay that way –
serpents are ready to inject with multi-colored stabilizing potions as we are laying on the side of the road, steady, still, wave-like, without the Goals and Gods yet. we crawl underneath black, and orange, curtains, hanging from the windows in the room and hold a perpetually upwards gaze. we ask the Sun and try to figure out this Maze Life, why is it shining so hard-ly and soft-ly, simultaneous-ly –
I ask of the lead-filled walls around this to Be in peace or stay comforted by holding in one place, in one chair, in one face easily centered and focused. we should all keep roaming as if this is all normal. we realize that moving between the cracks in the ground is to blink and remember the Imagination’s voice. we are coming and going into the experience of intense focus
