Cosmic Birth


She walked into the crystalline night below an inky sky her thoughts following her like giant insects who come out only when old furniture is moved. The apparitions that stalked her, breathing their hot voices close to her ears, were ever present. It was like the dead air sound inside her head when the pressure gets too much; or maybe someone just over the other side was reaching out, trying to say something, but she couldn’t make out the words. A rushing, like the blood in her veins, pushing and pulsing. They follow her, so very near.

Where was she going? And where had she just been? The night air felt like a slap, but it was a sting of stars blasting her awake.  Had she been asleep? Walking through her life, but not conscious. Faces, distorted with mouths that spoke at her, trying to swallow her and eat what she was, would swim out of the darkness, grinning. Often, she would find herself in a place she wouldn’t recognize, naked and unaware how she had gotten there. Just like on this stark night.

The mirrored hall of reality was a twisted place. It’s maze of unending pathways looking back upon itself reflected nothing and everything. Where did she start or end? The mystery of the beginning was unknown. So, she would keep moving because stopping would mean pain. The grace of fluidity kept her whole, in one piece, so she wouldn’t shatter into a million shards and fly off into the universe.

It was understood that this was a lonely place. The voices may speak, but they would never hear.  She would always walk alone on roadways unfamiliar and distant from where she knew she belonged. There would be a mist that would drift in around her and hold her like a baby, clouding the world around her and making the edges soft. But this made others wary of her, because when she stepped out of the fog, she saw with great clarity and knew when the others weren’t true. And this made her different.

So, it kept her walking; away from it all. It kept her separate, even though the voices followed. She kept going forward, step by step. The ghosts floated close by, but the cool, authentic air as she walked kept her present.

And as she walked, her head tilted toward the dotted evening sky. She thought about the stars, planets and the universes. Mostly about eternity. How it all stretches out on and on. It started before her and will go on after she is long gone. And how she is following its call back home.

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Poem: Defogg


From the fog steps a stranger

droplets cling

making tears run

from weary eyes

In the clear

of the day

the face takes shape

But the true

features

will forever be left

hidden

by the misty ghosts

with hazy

relinquished hands

Poem: I Am Still Here


 

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Some days I am sinking

beneath the mist

drowning below my weary

loneliness

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Trapped

under the weight

of my icy fears

that no-one else can see

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I fly alone

you don’t hear me

you don’t see me

For I am the vision

of myself

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Small lights

in the encroaching darkness

Save me

I lift my weary eyes

and look ahead

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Another dawn approaches

dappled daylight crawls

I am still here

 

Poem : Foggy Morn


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There is a beacon in the fog
To show us the way
One we follow
Through thick thoughts
And whispered wishes

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In the light of the distant call
Echoing footsteps
Under billowing banyan
Father tree carry me
Forward

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The watchful eye of nature
Everywhere knows the way
Just follow
Just follow
Into the your precious day

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And with the drip and wet
Of dewy foggy morn
Walk boldly where you want to
And you will be reborn