I'd forgotten how to live as a sleep-walker in the din shuffling feet against the noise looking down instead of up I'd thought the end had come before this mistake made by God that I was still too much alive not interned deep in the ground.
The world still turned in its wheels now two dimensional in detail gray was the truest tint while rainbows tempted me so much to see with cold promise that nothing warmed my numb hands matched by a body I'd divorced from pursuit of desire's course.
Then the flame filled my eyes sparked the coals nearly ash embers stoked I thought were dead resurrected to burn again now the chill is put aside if only for a moment's blink nothing more may come of this still I welcome the brief respite.
The ego’s mind assumes control reminds the spirit of its place do not expect inferno's heat outside of fleeting recompense yet I'm reminded that I'm alive still responding to passion's touch with a statement that exclaims I'm not dead, just getting by.
Every so often a person will appear in your life with a reminder that life does hold magical moments. The fog of existence is burned away for a brief moment as the spirit responds to forgotten stimulus. The poem "I’m Not Dead" is about this phenomenon.