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  Jan 2015 Paul Butters
Poetic T
Adrift in silence
Floating in the womb of space
Natures lamp posts guide.
  Jan 2015 Paul Butters
Ady
Not long ago, I dreamed I was swimming in the most beautiful water I have ever seen. It was a crystalline, pastel tangerine which was the product of the reflecting sun. It was too clear that it felt like air. I was underneath, swimming in its deepness and yet almost teasing the surface with the underwater ripples of my moving legs and hands.
There were iridescent green trees protruding from the side of the pool rooted barely to the edges of the patches of earth at the sides. Almost glowing from within with a light of their own. They were big and its leaves were plentiful. Evergreen, full of richness and budding inside this water world.
I felt content. At one point I was swimming with my head towards the surface but I was still submerged and the caramel rays of the sun caressed my body and filled me with euphoria.
I was floating underneath further and further mesmerized by the beauty and serenity.
I saw myself from somewhere above as I enjoyed the sensation of the embrace of the water and swam immersed in mirth.
It felt like swimming in my aspirations and inspirations. The softer side of imagination.
imagination, inspirations, aspiration, dreams
Paul Butters Jan 2015
Film and television cameras:
Roving eyes for many of us.
But are We the cameras on the world
For an audience somewhere out there
Beyond the stars?

Our world: a studio for countless films.
The animal race a production crew
For programmes watched by spirit beings.

And who collects these reels of Life?
Where is The Director?
What Company employs us all?

Those with feelings of Déjà vu do ask:
Which Take are we doing now?
And Minds of Science claim
We can Forward Fast or Rewind.

It’s one great mystery of course:
The longest journey of them all.
A soap opera to beat all others:
This film called “Life”.

Paul Butters
Keep thinking this eye camera thing.......
He who is invisible,
Yet intelligible
He who is invincible,
Yet yielding
He who inscrutable,
Yet stands to scrutiny
He is who is Almighty,
Yet benevolent
He who is pleased
With a flower of love
Than with a tower of gold
He who swings
Ceaseless cradle of life
Tossing between extremes
In the lull of full of life
And dissolves cries and craves
I bow down and pray
Till my soul embraces
His Solo Soul
Unto the last breath
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