White Washed Walls

What is this

that I trust my soul

to be carried in a hand

covered by a cloud

of the unknowing

but knowingly–my heart

has an eye

and I can see again

I can see the currents

passing underneath

deep and blue

blue and deep

never had there been

such deep waters,

As I smile

with a golden tear

like an eggshell


and rolling down my face–

Oh, to see oneself

for the first time

to see the glimmering

depths of stars

bright and silver

exploding and magnifying

like lava–

Oh, the precious stars

the billions and trillions

of lights

all underneath the water

hanging like seaweed

as I am rolled

for the first time

and there,

like a seashell

for the first time

I found symmetry

a pattern

for what–I am truly alive

and grateful

that I had slept so long

in the slumbers

and chambers

of the heart’s unknowing


A secret cloud finds me there

for the first time

and for the last time

I am caught restless

yet still

for a feeling has it–

I am believing

I am relentless

I am unselfish

I am loving

I am by no name

I am the living dead


with good pain

for the very first time.

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