Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash

 

The multi-verse within:

I stumble into my usual discontent

A bout of sleep –

A fragment of the fourth dimension,

Trapped within

An echo of a dream –

Thin, thin

Time, like the river Lethe,

Washes over me

Left I am here, bereft,

To float upon this river of unmindfulness

Towards the golden dome

Which glows with Synaesthetic force –

Towards a pulsating kaleidoscope of times –

Present-future-past –

Flash fast across the screen –

That is my sleeping, ever-wakeful mind.

Like shards of jagged

Glass, these splinters of a past

Roll in upon the tides

Of sight and sound

Hearing touch and taste

Wet these myriad-grains

Of a translucent sand

With rain that never dries.

Beneath the silvery moon I lie

The man-who-never-dies.