A Priori
A Priori
faith pulls me up again
for every turn away
the turning back begins
like this but darker
flat as an ocean
sleeping above me
then the mirror language
evolves around me
words lost
as they are spoken
instantly forgotten
the infinite unknowing
cloud river threads my mind
I cross from here to there
masked to fit perception
my fabric destiny
billows across the granite ridge
caught between the branches
the thought of floating off
does
softly whispered
the wish to see
graceful turning
the end of me
Copyright © Paul Trimble | Year Posted 2022
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