Powder

(?:2008.Wed.01.02|16:39:37:?] ©c.thomas.carter

I have suffered many
deaths of mind;
Longer and shorter,
Smaller and Larger;
Yet with each ending
of chapters, the quill
was unexpectedly given to me,
and my voice
could remember its song
and the water from the source
flowed neverending.
Never beginning...
Story that becomes my sight,
Poem that becomes my mode of thought.
Dance that becomes every movement.
Music that breathes from my lungs and vocal chords.
Ashen dust that becomes paint.

Soon I will make pilgrimage
to the vast desert
down under.
We shall live,
We shall burn,
We become impervious to fire.
The Ash is replaced with the Soul.

Charlie is Mad they say...
Let them say it...
Charlie is a Fool they say...
It is true.
Charlie your eyes do not see reality they say...
Is that so?
Perhaps I should agree...
For the colors and absences of color I see they say
they do not see...
The music I hear backwards and forwards they say
they do not hear...
My mind is unraveling they say,
Joy of my heart that it is true.

Appeared from the black door of the
Void...
Lived in Mecca,
Torn to pieces;
Entombed...
Yet... Risen.