Whatever It Is This Is
written by: Eli Garcia
Space is amber and I trapped within no matter how I dance.
Time billows snaps behind drags me back past myself pushing forward.
End sprawled out ahead somewhere undetermined least by me.
Start back past my footprints tracking out of nothing cupping a thin story I hold so dear.
I am I think intellect grasping at the stars.
Can’t see past eternities what stares back out past me.
Weightless void-less silent dark processing stimuli streamed at an alarming rate.
More than naked touching every cell of the world raw with every cell of myself.
Striding volumes filled to bursting with infinite spaces.
Collapsed a point center expanse all that isn’t me.
Something is seen grasping at things mundane that can’t be touched or found.
Smelling touching tasting abstract wonders rough with dust and grain.
The stars shine themselves into every nook and cranny.
I shine look up and in view and viewer twine.
Light from every mote of time before joined in this beholder.
Painting murals grateful wonder on this I am I think for whatever it is this is.
- Willow’s Perch - July 13, 2022
- Out From Her Shore - November 18, 2019
- Were I A Poet - August 18, 2019
