As I shutter my eyes,

Squeezing eyelids tight,

Leaving the dark of night,

Abandoning sight,

In search of light.


In wonder I ponder,

Viewing the shimmering surface,

Much  unlike the circus,

Of the grounds that surround us,

This chaotic nexus.


As I fall in inwards,

The mind wakes as the body is aslumber,

Labyrinthine corridors ending never,

Leading from their quiet to a lake stiller,

The ocean of the self that lies centre.


The glassy surface of fluid obsidian,

I reach out to touch, oh so slow,

Shivering in anticipation, feverish to know,

Oh whatever dwells, there down below.

And into the dark waters, I myself throw.


The waters perturb not,

Below my ungraceful weight,

They reach, clasp, hungry, tendrils of fate,

In an embrace absent hate,

Akin to lovers of old, seen in life late.


Flooded mind seething, by whispers engulfing,

Flooded lungs burning, drawing no breath,

Crushed once again, bearing the water’s depth,

Suffering the storm of wisdom’s wrath,

Metamorphosed by my sapient bath.


I close my eye in enlightened death,

The mind blackens and surrenders to sleep,

The body rises to its duty to keep,

Guarding secrets allowing thoughts to in silence steep,

Now my eyelids flutter, as daylight beyond the curtains  creep.


And I look at the peeled paint on my ceiling and I wonder,

The mosaic of stains and discoloured patches staring back at me,

I say to myself “Are we god’s dream and if so, is he ours?”


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