the gateway through silence leads to secret places
secret places filled to the brim

brimming over back through the gateway they follow
each sojourn into silence.

Mother Mary with her tilted head
suggests,
with her Posture,
the light that illuminates her shawl.

Like a leaf tilted by the weight
of water,
the sky demands Enough and speaks,
easy words.

For a time, when the world is silent,
not even
a mystic experience could perfume
the inventory of delight.

Even the light is hollow bubbles.

Be a song that brings deep joy to the soul, not just a verse that skims over it like a misplaced note.

I was going to bring my pet hamster tonight.
Anyone met my pet hamster - Picasso?
He is an impressionist.
No, honestly he does all the other rodents :-
Mice, rats, capybara, Donald Trump, Prince Andrew, all of them.
Unfortunately I couldn't bring him,
because he died this afternoon.
He fell asleep at the wheel.

Again, with those lights in the sky.

Ghost like jellyfish that float on by.

They fly so high they become the stars.

I see ships pass by shaped like cigars.

What begins to make sense makes no sense at all.

The starlight resonance is simply just a cosmic call.

All this from nostalgia and thinking ahead.  

Listening to music while I lay in bed.

Where the mind is struck often by the fractious fracas of fears, it leaves the docile hope wounded and pinned.

Intoxication of the bee

Dancing lavender
In the hive