word paintings, x for the x

the edge, the voice
heart, echo cryout
eyes to the turning of the pages
the hum, the weight
of 21st century evolution
it’s me, myself, and I
it’s you, them, and everyone else
timebombs in the charm
virus apocalyptica

which way now
which way the metaphor
the flush and fusion of the blood
gray rainbows
meadow flowers
tombstone eyes
heart and sigh of the deeper breath

always, the relentless turning of the pages
always, the yearning
heart’s desire, a simpler time
slow being and becoming
and not this relentless rush of instant karma

ever the weight, the breath work
slow movement in the dance of free spirit

dharmicmel
thursday. 02 april 2009 ce