One-der

numbers stand together aligning her fortune with the master of ceremonies. even her breath is whispered into her. all is aqueous in nature. so close. yet she misses again and again her star but this too would be given, ringing appreciation in sonorous strings to be played again and again for her to remember.

clear

an aerial bud blinks.
the aurora compasses, compressing aluminum, disintegrating torpedo. it pins dander. with concave blades, sundering past the remembrance, the radiation burns, annihilating gardens. the tears bare hollow alcoves in strawberry marks. saluting on point, near fallen banana leaves, she diffuses into the axis. traversing past compositions to a gentle reflection of blankness, spiraling in adulation, a bud blooms for Thee

rest.withpeace

nebulous stains her ruffled skirt as scrawny branches tag along, puncturing holes in her cream stockings. with the drizzle her eyes smear, appearing more like holes filled with slimy worms. the soil scrapes her cheeks, as its root sew the lining between her rosy lips, revolving around her delicate neck. with a mechanical stance and shovel at hand, she walks, submerging her satin slippers in a mud that pulls. passing cemented memories held in squared boxes, floating below whirling winds, she walks. she walks. she walks until her knees become part of the cliff's edge. smiling at beauty, the sea, she grabs the shovel and continues to bury her aerie.

sun

cushion

core

inside

flow

horizical

a

a single space steps slightly south shrinking stopping sinking noticing north numbers numbing nuclear nonlinear nights filling folding falling finite follicles flowing feeling fires rising running rivers rushing under undivided umbrellas lifting lightly long lingering lines lovingly a

fly

chaos flaps its wings, pushing over mountains and pencils to land on their side, giving us the land to step with courage or fright. hands spill over, reaching in, to bring out the light, reminding us of our true kite; to choose to love rather than to fight. its a movement, where the tiny can make it right, by remembering the True Source of Love and Light.


chaos is beautiful

all

green tips point to the charts that spin like ferris wheels, blowing seeds with their parachutes across blue skies. the daedal hand lines up the birds as arrows to lead the way as they catch the falling bulbs, resting them in warm soil.

key

a door stands, leaning on arched wooden roots, with branches that bend, looking for her. her round polished black rocks laced in pink, splash through waters. she runs, hearing the sounds of the forest, seeing the shadows blend with the darkness of the sky, she runs. yellow fishes suck her weight, leaving her feet free to feel the soil of the earth. she runs

until her breath stops. a silence awakens her heart, as she stands before it. the tree feels her and through the peep hole embraces her in and quickly thereafter erases.

bounce

strings lift her eyelids, wrapping her skin to flip, touching the ground and bouncing up to the sphere, where waters erase land. her body no longer listens to the track or the signs posted, choosing instead to tear in diameters, jumping into fresh creeks to stand in glory of that which shines in volume ahead of the hills. it's radiance breathes for her, gently cutting the strings above her head, and splitting her hemispheres. her dress falls to the ground. the locus releases her blue sparkle and that is when she wakes up. looking around, she sees all is One.


smiling she throws the ball to the kids nearby.

falling

her translucent eyes play with the matter that forms walls of rubber. she walks through stems, reviewing maps of dendrites and rewiring codes for the neurons to speak to each other. the network lifts her dangling toes as she swings in colors mixed in nostalgia. her feathers glide in tears, filling oceans with waves, teasing rocky cliffs to fall to pieces for that moment of meeting before running into the cold. yet even in freezing status, a golden chime holds her hand, placing the sound into her heart of the place her eyes have searched for. its softness has no map. it is a direct connection. a flight over flowing in cascading falls.