Half-forms, half-thoughts,
Rolling, rolling, turning,
Swirling and meshing and churning and fusing,
A whole chaotic jumbled mess

That makes perfect sense to one.

One brave soul amidst the storm,
One strong figure against the tempest,
One resolute leader, unwavering hero,
Can understand the brew.

The others think him mad
For watching the Halfs flash by.
Him, mad? Possibly.
Be he thinks himself sane.
And who can tell him
“Sane” or not?
They see Halfs, he sees Wholes.
They see tumult, he sees languidness.
They see chaos, he sees order.
They see a storm, he sees peace.
So he smiles to himself as they quake;
They do not understand the humour.
The Wholes shared something amusing
With their steadfast Captain,
But the others see Halfs, so the humour was lost.
This is all the more amusing,
And so this sane madman
Laughs and laughs and laughs.

There’s a difference
Between drowning
And sinking.
Both refer to
Being immersed in
A body of liquid.
But drowning
Means you’re rejected.
Drowning
Means you and the liquid
Are at odds—
You’re in the liquid
But you’re not of the liquid;
You are not one
With the liquid.
You cannot breathe,
You cannot hear anything
But your own screams
And your own terror,
You cannot see anything
Other than darkness.

But sinking is different.
Sinking
Means you’re accepted.
Sinking
Means you and the liquid
Have come to an agreement—
You’re in the liquid
And you’re of the liquid;
You are one
With the liquid.
You can breathe,
You can hear everything
Along with soulbeats
And the elusive love,
You can see everything
Cloaked in majestic light.

Thus is the difference
Between drowning
And sinking.
There is death in drowning
But life in sinking.
I’d rather sink.
Which you do prefer?

For a moment,
I am changed.
For a moment,
I cease to have an early body.
For a moment,
I melt away.
For a moment,
I am no longer myself.
For a moment,
I am Love itself.
For an instance,
My arms are no longer arms
But are tendrils.
For an instance,
My embrace is not physical
But emotional.
For an instance,
I turn into Love
And wrap the other
In a penetrating warmth
That I pray reaches
The beating heart within.

I am both the puppet and the puppet master.
I dance to the will of others while subtly controlling them.
I sometimes make myself dance,
The two halves of me controlling and obedient simultaneously.
The shadow that lurks in my shadow—
I am that, too, seeping and oozing over the ground.
The forces in my heart are battling for control—
The shadow and the light are battling.
My heart remains the ****** battlefield,
Littered with dead dreams and riddled with holes.
And all the while the puppet jerks,
Obeying the tug of strings,
And all the while the puppet masker jerks,
Controlling the mass of strings.

Free-floating, gliding around,
No up, no down, no left or right.
A big jumbled mess
That makes perfect sense.
Rocketing at high velocity,
Colliding and sending sparks
Flying in all directions.
The sparks float aimlessly
As the objects that created them.
They leave a sparkling trail
Of stars in their wake.
Trace it back to the origin.
Recreate the collision.
Witness for yourself
The sparks as they fly.
Maybe one day you, too,
Can be part
Of that glorious bang.

The fish flies with fins of fire,
Following fellow friends
To the depths of the sky.
A sashay of the hips,
A flick of the fins—
Cast embers to Earth.
Melding, molding, moving—
These fish of flames flee
The wet bonds below.
Free at last, the fire fins grow.
Gold now—blue—
Brighter than the moon,
Brighter than the stars
That beckon them forth.
And so the fire fish fly with fins
And reject the world’s reality.

A thin crystal grows over the flame,
Inching up its tongues like ice.
Both burn with a raging intensity,
Contributing to each other’s pain.
The light shines through the creeping crystal,
Casting fantastic designs along the wall.
They dance in intricate choreography,
Twirling and dipping and leaping and flying.
Their lanky ephemeral forms lengthen
As the ice creeps ever higher.
The red burns low and sinks to orange
While yellow turns to gold.
Cold blue fire contributes its color—
Pale purple begins to appear.
Will the flame still burn
Within its cage of ice?
Will the crystal quell its heart
And keep it frozen for eternity?
Will the two become one,
Fusing together at last?