Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#paradis
Some days hang in the sky like gems Or encase me inside, quite still. Above, the light is crystalline And on the horizon, filtered soft I sit, like Scheherazade and gaze At the oscillating leaves And wandering clouds, Letting them create a hum inside me. Senses turn to water and slide down Beneath my skull, draining tension And even careful thought, Until all that’s left is the mind, The vibrating Paradis, The enclosed garden of antiquity, Yet boundless tending of awareness That is unaware, And the long, slow drift of Life. … I could stop there But near-erotic sensations Through all my nerves and skin Lead me on, As if sinking down into a pool, Inside a liquid chalice of energy. Eyelids half-closed, Viscera descending As the being relaxes. Limbs flex and let energy flow Until there is no barrier Between myself and the earth. Like Prufrock, I come to rest, Not ragged claws but a thoughtless droplet Or ancient sea lily that waves And, we have seen, walks daintily On tip-toes across the sea floor! In the currents I send out tendrils Of light and vague curiosity, The only human thing left, As it once was, before consciousness Trespassed, before anything was named, Before judgment was passed. It is mind without thought: The brilliant void that changes not From sunrise to sunset. I could remain like this forever, Simply being; All is a luxury of torpor, Serenity and certainty. And if one psyche plaintively asked, If this is all, I should reply that for these Several moments, “This is just what I mean, this is all.”
0
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 8:31 AM UTC
This is All
Some days hang in the sky like gems Or encase me inside, quite still. Above, the light is crystalline And on the horizon, filtered soft I sit, like Scheherazade and gaze At the oscillating leaves And wandering clouds, Letting them create a hum inside me. Senses turn to water and slide down Beneath my skull, draining tension And even careful thought, Until all that’s left is the mind, The vibrating Paradis, The enclosed garden of antiquity, Yet boundless tending of awareness That is unaware, And the long, slow drift of Life. … I could stop there But near-erotic sensations Through all my nerves and skin Lead me on, As if sinking down into a pool, Inside a liquid chalice of energy. Eyelids half-closed, Viscera descending As the being relaxes. Limbs flex and let energy flow Until there is no barrier Between myself and the earth. Like Prufrock, I come to rest, Not ragged claws but a thoughtless droplet Or ancient sea lily that waves And, we have seen, walks daintily On tip-toes across the sea floor! In the currents I send out tendrils Of light and vague curiosity, The only human thing left, As it once was, before consciousness Trespassed, before anything was named, Before judgment was passed. It is mind without thought: The brilliant void that changes not From sunrise to sunset. I could remain like this forever, Simply being; All is a luxury of torpor, Serenity and certainty. And if one psyche plaintively asked, If this is all, I should reply that for these Several moments, “This is just what I mean, this is all.”
Continue reading...
54