The choice of words are both artistically miserly and appropriately bountiful. This is simply beautiful.


Slipping into and out of this dream


Where reality bleeds into fantasy

Like fog on the water when the margins disappear

Gray on gray

My consciousness is that ambiguous

In this non-moment

One drop that neither falls nor ascends

Holding the promise of the universe

An ocean within a realization

Waiting for gravity or perhaps evaporation

For a moment of transcendence

From discretion to completion

From point to pointless

To oneness with everything

In this stateless dream

Where the margins disappear

Along with the horizons

And there is no other place to look

Except within


David Trudel   ©  2013



View original post