If a soul is but a flicker
Amidst the flames of a
Roaring fire, or
One tiny piece of soil,
Inside a damp hole
With no bottom, then
What, perchance,
Could its greater purpose
Be?
Be?
Great blackened tendrils
Billow out and create
Thoughts; the seriousness of night
In the axis, sheer color illuminates
Maroon, mauve, burgundy
Try to behold it and
The mind’s process falters
An incandescent, glorious wonder
Transcending time, place, being
Magenta, flux, cranberry
A trickle, a wavering light
This is all that can persist
An Immense, an Innate
pushing out
into and through
A box.
The simple, the tangible
Midnight, turquoise, heather
Conception.
:)
:)
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