Art by Edvard Munch
I awaken from a dream.
I have a question:
How do I negotiate
this non-geometric space
With ardent blends
of color? There are no sharp
arrows commanding a direction or route.
I shut my eyes.
I desire.
Inside,
my breath sighs
through my veins.
Outside,
the vast emptiness
gathers sunlight and prism.
Profoundly kindled,
I ask: What is it
to exist with no gravity? How
does one endure without anchor?
I am the ubiquitous forest, brimming
with nerve and breathlessness.
In this instant, if
you tear my heart open
you shall find the indomitable sun.
The steadfast earth. The brave leaf unfurling.
