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        poessay IV

                                              whenever thought
                                goes beyond its own eyes
                                                         and beyond its own breath
                     and it feels good
                                              a field is created instantly
                                vast and breathless
                                                         a release a land a view
                     there is a horizon
                                there is the distance to the horizon
                                              and there is all manner of possibility
                                                         in between
                                              there is a liberation from only
                                                         there is a discernment of self
        I have the space to act
                                                                      I have the boundary to speak
                                                         this is the sheer creation – let there be –
                                out of the nothing that was there before

                                              but now I am defined
                                omega to the alpha        yang to the yin
        I have proliferated
                                                         all of a sudden I turn round
                                there is a body and I am in it
                                                         I have lost the emptiness
                     that I reached from in the beginning

                                              cacophony everywhere

                                                                      now I have forgotten the emptiness
                                although I feel it all around me

                     the field is apparent now
                                                         it is wide it is deep
                                there are others who can repeat what it offers
                                              others who can seed it
                                                         others who can harvest it
                                                         others who can own it
                                                                      I have lost the field as well
                     I have forgotten that it was mine
                                I have forgotten that it was me
                                                                                    fields and nations everywhere

                                              I know
                                                                      I’ll have another idea …





contributing to … poessays
creativity wormhole: ”hmm …’ …’
emptiness wormhole: gift
Have wormhole: poessay II
horizon wormhole: 1970 // just now
identity wormhole: ‘every once in a while …’
poessay wormhole: poessay II
samsara wormhole: Have
thought wormhole: while / walking