Surreal!
The silence is interlaced with notes.
Phantom notes that don't exist and yet are as real.
Colorless and yet shining in the most awe-inspiring light.
I rise with one
and there is another to catch me like a trapeze artist
before i sore again.
so in tune.
I feel detached from Time.
I used to wonder whether -
time is the proof of my existence
Or my existence the proof for Time?
But the cynic in me is now drunk in tranquility.
Ineffable...
Yet i try to bind this experience in trivial modes of expression.
I have felt this before and am feeling it now,
My consciousness stretched across time;
a sphere that surrounds me.
In this state I AM -  
creation and obliteration;
order and chaos;
knowledge and ignorance;
reality and imagination;
bound and liberated;
the experience and the observer;
here and everywhere;
and NOT.

All eyes on me.
Their field of vision lash against my walls.
Eroding them like the frothy waves gnawing at the desolate fort.
These walls that I've raised to hide...
Hide what? I ask.
Surely something that they mustn't know.

Their tongues wade at me.
I strain my ears to catch what they hide from me.
The slightest wind could exalt me to exhilaration
Or, depress me into the tar pit of my own creation.
Where am I headed? I ask.

I am besieged.
The intruder is at the perimeter.
Why am I here? I ask.
The walls are giving away to the tempest.
But they haven't reached me yet.
They are trained at my scent like blood hounds.
I sound the alarm and curl back deep within.

My station hangs precariously.
Will the pillars hold?

That which is and that which must be,
is it there for me to see;
to hear;
to feel?

Or is it but a dream;
a sensation that teems
from within;
for within?    

And, what lies within?
The 'I' who thinks
and creates;
and contemplates?

The wind blows in a restive frenzy,
But knows not which way to go.

Dead leaves caper ecstatically
In the hope of reanimation.

The lascivious earth wears petrichor;
Craving for his touch.

Her paramour with a tumultuous roar,
Seems invincible in his virility.

The grim atmosphere lights intermittently
As the sparks of their passionate paroxysm burst through.

The ******* tryst leaves him exhausted.
Satiating her voracity was an arduous feat.

What once seemed invincible now floats decrepit;
Oblivious to the agents of his decay.