From the deep blue of ocean and sky
I draw the sense of a serene vastness
An amphitheatre for the renaissance
From light to shadow to light to shade
Endless exponential cycles of realisation
I am sitting here with night-blindness
All-quiet, by myself
Waiting for my vision to clear
I pause to wonder…
Who said the collective had to be unconscious?
This poem is dedicated to the four angels that keep hanging out the lanterns for me to find my way. They’ve got A reserve seats in that amphitheatre, for sure.