against the shoulder of silence
we veered along the mountainside
souls wandering through emptiness
without providing meaning
twisting through distant memory
not knowing what we are averting
and yet naturally
a single sliver of blue graces the east
and then purple
and then red, a brilliant blasphemous red–
and we saw ourselves for what we were now
and perhaps there had never been nothing more numbing
a most vivid portrait of all we had never put into words:
the sun in my palms;
a world embedded in the pages between my hands;
a bird that has curiously asked for a plantain chip;
the sky resting gently upon the ocean and the mountains between them;
driftwood no longer drifting;
the black shroud lifted upon the earth and cast aside by the wind;
the blank reflection cast upon transparent water;
carelessness turned beautiful by the scorching sun;
the jungle as a toolbox and the sand as a playground.
~01/2019
odyssey entry 11
hallowed, hollowed heart entry 3
v1