I am deep into the dark forests of the soul
where everything is hyperreal
me is not me you is not only you
too much is together and the mind just a narrow stream
I am listening to the old cries as if souls are passing through me,
as if I need to understand what the birds are saying to each other

the route to understanding is through this dense unknown
and when I might find it I leave it guarded by the certainty of clouds passing by
so hard to see inside your mind inside your kind inside your bones
aliveness is a killer, the mind has its own temperature
the body already knows everything I have to find the vitally wise language
I feel the natural dance of the opposites, the flight and the fall, I need some other dimensions though to get out the whirlwind
feelings flow like the contour of a distant lighthouse distant fire distant aurora,
the silence of the light a true companion for conversations in the dark