A dream, then god‘s interspersing jealous pleading indecipherable.
The combinatorial explosion makes us into god-like humans,
when we grasp that simplicity is the greatest complexity,
the surges, the mastering urges, the blending melding gradations,
gods dream of our holy bodies encompassing, its said ingredients.
fly child!
the horizon line approaching, it’s either a goal or boundary, or both,
where endings blending make us immortal for a few minutes,
when the good Holy Ghost says, “me and we, ain’t no difference,”
hot fever, leads to raging calm, euphoria transition to believing,
where the god inroads, visibly interfere in invisible dreams, pixies pixelating fine granular,
dreaming my skin, kin to prayering, my knees touching clouds,
lying on mounds of red soil, my eyes sewn shut and yet,
I see all perfectly, for the dream of god, is what we are...
~
7:15am
Jan. 31, the year of 2020 visionary
