Listen to poem:
Illusion Of Solidity
Written: August 9, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Unseeking Seeker.
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Line of inquiry:
The dream seems real since we don a form,
borrowed from elements of that domain,
but if we simply chose not to conform,
we wake up when desires to rest are lain.
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We are the shimmer; darkness cannot reclaim.
Flickers of fire on fathomless ocean's frame.
A silver silhouette against the scythe stone,
A borrowed brightness feigning as our own.
The moon quiets the lake, then lets it speak.
Standing reflected, a promise we never meek
We name the glimmer, whisper "this is real",
Holographic worlds—slide beyond a thick veil.
Body is dust that divaricates dawn-lent flame,
Seeing self as secrets with flesh called by name.
We gather our shades—shield what won't stay,
While stark certainties leach their hue to gray,
What seems solid is but a palimpsest stream,
Matter made radiant by an evanescent dream.
The mountain, the moth, the marrow, the star
Are one vibration haunting forms afar.
And when the last light slips from the land,
When time lets all faint-shaped figures disband,
Nothing is lost in the vastness we fear—
The wave folds back to the ocean ever near.
Perhaps existence isn't alabaster grace,
Still, its elfin alchemy we chase and trace.
A thousand lives tangled in an eolithic breath,
One archetype shifting shape beyond death.
You came—not as an Olympus-evoked ghost.
Nor as a celestial fire from genesis frost.
But silent silence invaded my Elysium pen.
As ink flared fact fibers, fathoming zen.
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