words

Mindful
Resting inches above the floor of my consciousness
Close enough to feel the ancient turbulence
Of the id
Rolling over in its pit
What primitives of knowing I cannot know

In the dim nothing there goes the scurrying creatures of thought
Restless, confused by the arrogance
Of my attempt at ushering the self to silence
They nip playfully at my levitating heels

Those greater formless regents spin somewhere above
Occasionally their frequencies translate to sounds meant to rouse me from my depth
Bring me rising to the surface of man
Where we may once again converse
In a scattered lattice of being,
That familiar dimension of existence

I feel my optic nerves slow in their trenches,
The aural transceivers momentarily excited
Before they too go softly into that strange respite

For a moment, a flash of plank constance
There is truth, oscillating nakedly where all things meet,
aware of my presence she closes the door

And up we go,
All of it, in a vacuum race to the surface

Back to that confused realm of identity.

2019sm