Hour 1: Water Poem

Cool pressure surrounding,

Folds of stilled gravity, swirling,

resisting, flowing in the rivers path,

the tiger-striped magician vanishing

beneath bubble-storm breaths.


Applause dulled, vibrations eminate

in the deep dark, below the world

dissappears, above me the jeweled dance

of light crackles across a glass ceiling.


Encased in the embryonic silence,

the gates of heaven shimmer,

some touch to inuterine memory strummed,

birth and death beheld simultaneously,

lungs reminding me to live.

to pull towards the surface,

towards the light.

One thought on “Hour 1: Water Poem

  1. The vivid imagery kept pulling me in (down?) and gave me that sense of going underwater and the shifts that come with thar. Loved “jeweled dance/of light crackles across a glass ceiling.” Thank you.

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