This is the Constant Beginning,

A potentially-beingness, within reach,

Only discoverable by: plotting starless nights.



It is quite apparent that these

Fossilised branches haven’t granted any break

Not one single peculiar arrangement

For unusual germination.





Look Closer.

Grinding emptiness reveals disguised opportunity.

A starless night is only seemingly starless,

For one minuscule moment.



Adjust your eyes.




A surface reflecting vague light,

but light all the same,

Water

Chaos.

Torrent.

Cry out!!!!!






A loosening of grip,

blurred boundaries and extinguished reign.

Soothe and slowly wear away,

Tide, by tide,

Even rock can’t forever stay in this place.



Insemination.

A blood blister, bursting.

New avenues, channels,

Stretching out, running free,

Shards, flecks, reflections, drips,

All ways at once!

Horizons before,

The ability to understand lagging behind:

Drunk on heightened awareness.



Do you feel rushed now?

Try to resist it, there is time, I promise.









There is time for this firework of yours

to dance amongst the dense air

of the dark night’s sky.

The bright, wet spark burning its own

explosive passageway

through stale, compressed air.

There is time, eternity, for you too.









The way forward to predict a spark’s passage

cannot be so clear,

The only clarity available is present through

the dedicated service

To this spark.

Bang! Pop! Whizzzzzzzzz!

Escape!









To carry this spark

On undulating open plains

A ground responsive to its twists and turns

But cautious of its fragility and newness,

New branches

Knowing of the whole tree.







Are these my new pair of new shoes?

Or are these my old shoes,

ancient and worn, forgotten?







I : You

Limiting for this space of

Endless speckles of dust,

the skin floating above

Cerulean, cool and muddied water.





Within the constant beginning.