Collectively floating…

This poem expresses how it is I feel when I tap into that deeper state of being and expressive my self through either music, art, or writing.

Collectively Floating
There’s this place in my heart,
Where there’s no finish, no start.
Nothing leads to nothing.
Everything follows.
All of existence seems swallowed.

To feel lifted. To feel supported.
The puppet strings bare no master.
All of the words and music come faster.
Completely unaware of where…
Where does this manifest?

Tapping in to this collective being,
To further expand what you may or may not be seeing.
Not knowing where you’ll finish
This piece of work suddenly diminishes
To nothing and nowhere and all of the in between.
All one color the background is unseen.

Floating weightless in this limbo,
This purgatory of sorts,
The rhyme scheme is no longer flexible.
Run amuck and blow the top off,
Your safety net has been removed.
Complete your journey at the death of nightfall,
Dawning orange beams raise the purple hue.

Feeling the freedom of this, one…
This one existence.
Feeling what it is to be alive.
Feel what it is to be the one who is alive.
Feeling what it is to be alive.
Connect the dots and roll yourself over,
The alarm clock dials in.
Your numbers are drawn and the music plays,
Connect within.

The cold wind swiftly rushes beneath the wing,
Mother Earth sings.
The ridges of the tree line are planted with a lack of leaves.
Death of winter.
Reset button for spring.

This vehicle can be guided if you listen before you speak.
Tune in to the music that spirals,
A connectedness will it bring.
Awareness. Hope. Trusting.
The meadow in the valley is resonating.
The vibration rocks the Earth to sleep.
Love this cycle and listen.
Everything speaks, spins, and collides.
Look closer.
Alive.
Connect.

-October 27th, 2009

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