Sunday, 1 October 2017

Imagination #2:

If you could pretend, descend then
down the hole into the cavern — truth an oracle
ringing in your ears like the roar of the ocean
captured in the conch shell – only it is not ocean,
rather your own blood-beat, and so the oracle
is no truth-saying at all, but a response to eyes being opened.

If you could feign, enter the domain
through the solid rock of the cliff face — the light
disappearing as you enter through the gloom —
around you light blooms again as you stand
in the centre of the other world, its size
whirling ourwards from your very own, very small heartbeat.

If you could assume, let the fire consume
as you stand in the middle of the flame — await
death's forlorn call only to discover
in the middle of the sacred flame heat
does not sear but calls you further and further
into life's mystery so all realms become a single place of being.

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