The Screen Play
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Costume
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Administrator, Entrepreneur.
The Thinker, Dreamer,
The Artist, The One.
Skirts the bounds & finds
Success in a seashell.
The Dancer, Actor, Celebrant.
The Host, The Reveler, The Few:
Cosmic silkship, galley of
Dreams that soars through
Viscous tides of
Honey & cream.
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Backstage
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Peasant with a callous tongue.
Crow that stoops to nibble
Breadcrumbs eaten by ants &
Mold that flew from Asia
In an airship
Galactic roll call: "Thou art the
Flitting spectre which shapeshifts
Throughout all the endless aeons."
Hand and spoke a cymatic rose,
Yet it was my hand that raised.
It was my voice that spoke.
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Inner Mission
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Do they see the seeing?
Do they know the knowing,
The certainty of the Ocean?
through a fine mesh, sand
Passing into a glass tunnel,
Is it real the blinding Light?
True the heart that hums,
True the hand-brain that reaches
Like a sinewy filament, approaching
But never arriving, how can it be
Real the swallowing Void?
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Written by
9/8/17
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