Setting off fireworks of peaceful rhetoric standing in the wings. Awaiting fulfillment of nether worlds caught in imagination’s depths and reaping the benefits of total involvement during periods of existence.
Living in utmost awe of creative processes and their auras, believing in an after-life filled with prior promises and kept hidden closely inside.
Beautiful ideas finding their way through mazes and labyrinths of cause and effect.
Folding remarks made in haste, stashing them in caverns, away from my mind so I may not think of the hurt associated with them.
beauty, staring back at me in consternation.Praying for me to always be one with it foras long as I possible can.
contemplation strives to keep me balanced betweenlife and death matters.
Trapped in a cavern, no way out except with someone’s help.No one is there to reach out to or climb up a ledge.Death has permeated everything and all light has burnt out.
Spacing all shadows around fires of wisdom, allowing them the freedom to rearrange ideas as they are formed.
Nothing at all within.Wanting everything – receiving nothing,it’s all a blank page as the day progresses.No one has a pen.There is no paper.And yet, stories roll out anew with thoughtslying around inside.
