That Thou Art

she was an artwork in progress like graffiti on a wall which covered bricks in her head in the chakra’s colours connected to the world with easel and brush but the paint inside her was not quite free yet too many restrictions had been imposed by a socialized search for stability and adherence of what others seemed to deem the norm of good taste she blew up balloons with pigment dye figments of her imagination and rose-tinted shards of mosaic filled the room with fragrance of sandalwood and patchouli and tied them to her body for levitation and consciousness without any drugs she floated in psychedelic magic engaged in lightness and transcended borders of nothingness detachment rose to the ceiling but that was constructed of glass and was so solid that she could not break through thoroughly made it only allowed her to see hidden justice while with helium and unnecessary laughter she clung like a spider beneath herself and below shine through ascent the Buddha above any suspicion had no chisel nor hammer even Karma was out of reach for she was young and resilient but over time the brush with delight dried up like a fig tree without water shedding seemingly forbidden fruity melee now insecure in impermanence she wished to be floored only when she reminded herself that life was suffering in itself did she come to the conclusion that eventually the inflated globes of fanciful reverie would pop one by one and bring her back to square one and attempt safe passage once more 20th July 2021