Sometimes as a sea…
Sometimes as a sea
The infinity of possibilities through words well up and swell up and form the waves that rise and rise and even begin to hint that soon they may topple and break and spray and crash to make other waves, in their turn spray and roll and crash and crash forever onto themselves in a perpetual surge of beginning and end and beginning and…
Sometimes as a sea
My words become a wash of bubble and foam dissolving and losing themselves into a timeless eddy of perfect and total ignorance, oh yes, the great ocean of possibilities is still perhaps no more than a tiny storm in a teacup beside the bed of dreams, dreams, dreams…
Sometimes as a sea
I define myself while rising and falling in rhythm with the moon and filling the great caverns of such a tiny so tiny mind, with the salt of life so close, so close and yet just, just another ungraspable sentence squeezing through the cracks of the illusion of time and time and time…
Sometimes as a sea
I could imagine myself crashing and thrashing and etching and scouring onto the jagged rocks of such childish limitations, all in a day’s work, I’ll allow such power to cut its way beyond my age and years wasted, while spitting at the mirror image of self and growing dull and cold to the great life contained in the fertile gut of my sea, my sea, my sea…
Sometimes as a sea
I may have the strength to carry just one feather, a tiny feather from a bird long since flown across infinite blue depths of perfect potential, yes, the feather having fallen silklike through the ruddy primordial atmosphere on the dawn of the first day when I awoke to this clean slate of all yet to come…
Sometimes as a sea
I let there be calm, just the perfect calm…
Copyright © Graeme Perrin 2023