Think not about
the gossamer windings
of feeble minds
for our souls' inner
structure
is by sacred design
and as we roam
and spin and
consume in flame
we do our best
to soothe our
own inner pain
and when the seedlings
burst forth
their silken fire
and the dam breaks loose
with longing desire
we strive to remain
on top of the tide
in undertow rush
and unravelling pride
It is these moments
that we snap into shards
in a mosaic of selves
veins mapping
heart
and our arteries burst
into rhythms that slide
as shifting polar sparks
ignite waves of time
tectonic plates quake
as we are torn apart
from inside
our cells reconstructing
our fibers re-defined
This is spirit recreation -
a tiny flare in the dark
for we are dying to survive
our own inner hell
we are ******* the breath
of that life-giving spell
we do all of this and more
as we crumble
and spew
on our knees at rock-bottom
searching for new
So fear not
those depths
of the unlit abyss
for it's our own
shining eyes
that stir
light's
fervent
kiss