March 15, 2016
in this place
between eclipse and equinox
there is zero gravity
before now started
there was a certain weightedness
planned routines
ritualed paths
weighted thoughts, articulate
well crafted pauses
since now began there’s
the sense of being drawn-
an animated character
in a beloved story, drawn out.
Danger here, but not much
in the beautiful line of perpetual today
But there is a whisp, a
taste of discomfort like
the memory of rootedness
the memory of solid illusion
of knowing what next.
And then this, and then.. what, then?
Shouldn’t I be more….?
But no.
Not in the between time.
Choices like onion skins that
veil the centre but follow its curve
each the result of the one before
covering more and more while
the sleeping centre
wants dark for its’ becoming
dark and wet and warming