When black, the life of matter dissolves blood and bone
into chaos and song
Striving to spin golden straw from a hard-won mouth
gasping for voice.
The triumph from darkness tears a rent
into the dark, silent hold of infinity
Opening a portal, ever expanding
The bitter taste of defeat, of tooth shattering repression
springing back from the microcosm of despair
Blossoming upon awakening
into an iridescent spherical pillow, upon which lies spent then restored
a tender head of scrappy curls and weakened limbs.
Privilege of an odyssey chosen
descent into darkness, separation, disease, lack, exploitation
to return in an upwards spiral to a flowering of song
Smatterings of equations, characters behind the screen of appearances
The rainbow is a skin to the light body
akin to the prejudice of a world where matter is real
And where “real” things matter.
Where categories and bodies separate and alone
Solitude dissolves into symphony
When art opens the thousand-winged eyes of a butterfly wing,
revealing truth where
one reality is but a web of close-knitted lies
helped together only by the beliefs held by multitudes.
When white, the life of matter clatters and clinks
like coins against marble, granite, and platinum.
Titanium hard-veined blue and cold, embracing separation from the mirror
believing itself to be the Light, the one the only
Wishing to live in a world that is no mirror
To stand hard, tall, robotic on a stage
casting no shadow
Wishing even to banish shadow behind the hardest and most finite door.
Is the shadow of darkness pure source light?
The gift of shadow is the lovely spiral of growth of a plant towards the sun.
A child emerges into being by choice, fully knowing the challenges to be faced
Then forgetting, contracts dissolved into the meatiness of shade, infant emerges from ether, so brave to confront the unknown.
Human being, all flush with iridescence.
We all come here, draped in forgetfulness.
Draped in the shadow of not knowing who we are, why we are here.
The shadow is the teacher of the light.
Dear rainbow, we thank you.
We, fractal fragments of a single source orchestrator
are here. Breaking away to chip into a kaleidoscopic choking
Then explosion of two hardened discs, black on white
into an expanding iris.
We are the all-seeing light
speaking in rainbow volumes
Bringing the Living Library back to life.
Back to light.
Intuitive botany 