Action comes in waves
Energy in emotions.
As I raise my hands
And lift them up
In servitude
Supplication
Distress
Exhaustion.
There descends
Here and now
And within
This feeling
Of utter aloneness
And a simple state
Of blank. Of dark.
These words that
Emerge
Carry so many
Negative hues.
And yet
When mixed up
All together
Like paint on a child’s fingers
Carry this inherent joy
That can come only
With the utter abandonment
Of rules and structure
And consequence.
And as a child
Would smear her fingers
Across a pristine sheet of paper
And chortle in delight
At the magnificence of her creation.
I too will now
Take the singularities
That are within themselves
So dark and bleak and blah
And mix them all up
Using the tips of my fingers
And with a swish
Filled with that same
Utter abandonment
Will lay bare my creation
And chortle with delight
And whatever
May emerge.
Disjoint Wisdom 