The Collective

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.

Lorraine Spencer

Sojourner

Claire Marie O’Brien

Nasser

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