Flower Clouds, Odilon Redon 1903

I find myself here following the night did I plunge to the depths become reborn - I don't recall all that is evident is that I opened my eyes to clouds that may be drank in until merry and a feast of flowers there is stillness in the vast expanse then me, a blank canvas - reflective sat upon an obsidian ocean that absorbs and becomes an extension of the sky drinks it in - as I wish I could I wish to be painted into the sky or immersed once again into the ocean for I am not washed clean I bear the taint of darkness though I sail out it lingers lurks beneath and beside me clings to the mast owns the vessel maybe I'll look to the heavens be phosphorescent from this moment... onwards is my direction of travel there is no upwards I have inhaled gravity but on the water I will rise and fall and rise again ”wash me clean!” I cry over and over my tears creating tracks on my face view smeared - but still wondrous I am here in the colour and stillness heavy of heart but unsinking knowing new days are on the horizon