billowing white sails on the river
sturdy, irregular boats dancing on them,
a tango of rippling images on the water.
i sit there, on the fence... now young, now mature
now glee, now gloomy...
i sit there, outside myself
images come in deluge, high tides
riding those surfs high above is ... me
now drowning, now seizing eddies...
wrapped in a warped time
mind - has the future bearings
heart - the past
the whirlpool rises...
have you noticed, there's always a void at the center of these whirlpools
its the void that runs them, its the void that runs the universe
as the dusk dawns, slowly, steadily, eventlessly ...
its an event. the sky technicolor from violet to purple to deepest indigo and then the fire-gold descends...
streaks of amethyst flushing the crimson - the fading of greyness hangs with the giant smoke screens of cirrus
caught unawares, i stand in the rain ... drenched, staring at the unseen place in the water...
the sea was angry and the infinity of white caps had replaced the graceful white sails.
a gust of wind chill
i shudder, this time with cold.
minutes to hours... its pitter-patter,clear sky
water no longer there
only the salt in the breeze
A distant thunder, minds still frozen
night fell... galaxies say hello
the un-synched - harmonious