A swelling silence bubbles in
this space above my head.
Slipping severed senses
call me in into
the rabbit hole.

I rise from it
from

Reality. Time. Space
and illusion
coalesce.

Transforms and tells me
what to do,
how to love,
how to not conform
to material view.

Slipping severed senses.
Electromagnetic
waves around us resound–
audio and indigo
and micro
waves hugging us,
encompass us–
violets greens yellows blues
oranges and reds.
The colors of my thoughts
meet the color
of my rage
as they do not separate
the white light
but combine my
courage. It is all
I have.
All I’ve ever had.

The light shimmering through
this sunroof simply allows me
to see this room, this space
completely–
not only for
what passes
passions
eyes.

Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.” ~ Siddhartha Guatama Buddha

© Paz

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“Today’s challenge is to write a poem of space.”

Whew this one came out of me quickly like a fart. Now to catch up, if I can.

Oh and if you’ve been reading, you know I tragically lost Lorna the other day and haven’t had the chance to birth her or any other poem, but I did clean up and edit Lorna 1 & 2 in the meantime and plan to bring back 3 & 4 by any means possible.

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