Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Channeled Poem, Filigree, 6-29-2011

Filigree membranes of uncharted turf
inside our experience of rapid new birth.
Inside our mind's gauges, the readings are not
what we have understood, seen or felt blot
the documents we record, are not up to task,
for these feelings aren't the easiest to grasp.
They aren't really anchored, they aren't really here,
but just beyond physical which we are now near,
for if the darkness was once a playground
for experimentation witness is found
from the good and the brightest beings around
are watching us paint highlights onto grounds
of ever brewing dynamic thoughts in
our creative orb incubates change and it breeds
a new form of us right next to us
and invites us to switch vessels and jump on the bus.
The fruition of drama, the fruition of strength,
the fruition of depths plumbed and now bobbed up fresh
as the new being promised, reality lighter
than anything felt before submerged in the tank
of darkness, confusion, and self judgement 'round
our innocent playing has just been unbound.

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