Thursday, June 29, 2017

A Glittering Blob

Amorphous ambiguity,
coalescing coherently,
in a bubbling brew,
to cool on a sill,
eventually hardening,

A glittering blob, a glob,
a speck of a speck
of dust’s dust,
fluttering on a
summer wind,
over crashing seas named
Prologue and Epilogue.

Swirled about in whirls
with other parts of me,
undefined, immeasurable
and uncounted with delights
and disappointments,
all made for the me
I’m yet to be.

Raw and un-carved,
twitching sinew exposed,
to the heat, the coolness,
the joys of the winds and
the wrath of gray skies.
Yet to be mounted, drawn and
made whole by time.

A mass of matter, made to
matter, as a matter of course,
to be filled and unfilled, broken
and remade, in shards, in piles,
in landfills of experience,
born every day in the me-ness
of self.   

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