i lift my hand to gather up this emptiness,
all of this vacancy in the world, where water
leaves space for the air, where wind is silenced
and light grows tired in the shade.
these in between spaces of hollow rapture,
the tumult of the timeless, these are the seeds
of contemplative creation i collect,
preparing a garden where uninhabited dreams
can grow wings and feather their songs
with the form of their latent longing for fruition.
within my hands i caress the nascent gestation
of suggestive thought and action, a plenitude of possibility
and formative birth. i possess the keys
to a crossroad, unlocking potential and speaking
portents of prayers fomenting in the passing moment.
it is the emptiness of mind, absence of desire,
that feeds these flames of the future,
when the tide is slack and the wind is shut in.
within these moments of infinity i inhale the sky
and exhale the sea, i see the sky as my canvass
and i paint myself into existence reborn and renewed,
imbued with new old views to hold space for the void
to be invaded with fresh sensation.
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