This one was written on Monday and Tuesday, but I didn't get a chance to post it yesterday.
The surging sea
It’s something beyond words,
this speaking without saying anything at all,
none of the creations inside your head,
an outer world of living inner space,
this seeing without seeing,
a pull beyond the other world.
And here we pause before the rosebud sea,
this sheer wild energy, a surging out
of truth, ideas and pure patience.
Feel lost in the rush of it, the subtle shift,
the stifled air purified with salt,
the knowing without a reason to know.
It bends and rides and finds us here,
travels straight through us,
beyond the day and over the night,
and we can bear it, full-on, full force,
for we are with it, in it, of it,
and all the rest is white, white noise.
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, May 8-9, 2023
this speaking without saying anything at all,
none of the creations inside your head,
an outer world of living inner space,
this seeing without seeing,
a pull beyond the other world.
this sheer wild energy, a surging out
of truth, ideas and pure patience.
Feel lost in the rush of it, the subtle shift,
the stifled air purified with salt,
the knowing without a reason to know.
travels straight through us,
beyond the day and over the night,
and we can bear it, full-on, full force,
for we are with it, in it, of it,
and all the rest is white, white noise.
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