I travel in time and space
with visions of the light
like boucing a ball defiantly to the ground
for that reaction in tenor
and the sweet lust of sensing oneself,
mind in a rythmic method
the windmill moving on,
is midnight in a perfect world.
soil put to justice,
SOLSTICE AND THE MOMENT BEFORE
burning ephemeral,
bellies,pride on fire
and there I faltered,
failed to look at the Sun in its eye.
for the moments which could have been,
Mea Culpa!
The worst life is an orgasm
thats unfolds in reverse
I forgot,
that greater the obstacles,
brighter the glory of the fountainhead
that the sadness of the lone flute
is followed by rustic triumphant strings
Mea Culpa!
The clock ticks,
I didnt.
Mea Culpa!
but todays a new day, self!
tomorrows a new night
but tonight I shall kill myself
and arise from the ashes.
tonight, many paths
join and diverge
with the march of madness
which shall awaken the spirit
like the rapid brush strokes
of a painter who has got the vision,
that ephemeral glimpse of his perfection
That moment of joy,
realization of spirit
realization of I. I am.
I am!
I am!
I am!
and I shall never forget that.
