, , , ,

Formless stillness, confined motion; not rest, serenity.

Colored in reflections of  the formless blue. Hung,

halfway between heaven and hell,

white and the black; winged and the horned-

Blues of the colorless,

punctuated by the whispers of the wind.

Messages on the greens of the bystander-

a language sans words, sounds and signs;

scribbled by the reflected yellow threads of above.


Each ripple, each comma; a wrinkle to the eye.

Immune to time and age, and death too;

estranged feels of yesterdays and yester years.

It’s fluidity, the wetness of its being, carried by each drop-

Infinity of shattered dreams clasped in each tear-drop.

restless eternal motion of piscean beings-

Concealed beneath reflective imitation of station.

A pebble thrown tears through body and soul.

Pebble worn all eternity, scars- there remain none.