feet mine

Time is the web of filtered perception from which we dangle.

Gravity is the clockwise  sentinel, ever vigilant.

This moment is the colour of contentment.

This is the symmetry of peace.

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In my Wildest Dreams

In my wildest dreams,

There would be strong coffee in the morning

And crisp, white sheets

A stream of light through an open window

And poetry.

Caffeinated musings would mingle with Blake and Rumi and Keats

And I would recite Plath and Dickinson just to level the playing field.

You would marvel at the Masters upside down,

Your head in my lap

And ask for permission to “profane my blushing pilgrims”

The only line you could ever remember from high school.

We would both know that words were maps that navigated our existence

And that’s why I would like you.

 

“What you seek, is seeking you” – Rumi

It hung in the air suspended by its own gravity

Followed me into the coffee shop

Cut in front of me in the supermarket queue

When I got home, no doubt about it, it was there at the table,

Waiting patiently, cradling a question mark

Yearning to be accepted in all its jagged edges

Insecure about its clichéd origins

But certain of its innate swagger

Its syllabic wrap resounding in my ears

Rolling around on my tongue

Pondering connotations, associations, discerning choices

Compelling me to inscribe

Breathe air into it.