Montage, Part One of Many

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I wanted to create a series of montages that felt personal to my imagination. I hope to write many more as time moves on.

I stand
Standing upon the emerald landscape
posture stiff and still
Eyes like black holes
devouring the space around me
Glass horse galloping, prisms 
exploding through the plainlands
Time passes faster and faster 
the clouds cocoon and bloom
into a wrinkled face, 
nearing a necessary wail

I blink
A cliffside abbey, tourmaline waves 
crash into the fissured face
Hung to the horizon, dangling 
like a Christmas ornament above the sea
A gaggle of nuns gather to practice their vespers
clasping on their ash wood rosaries 
The atmosphere arranges 
in etudes as the cliffside ascends

I fall
Wading face up in a bog
a common frog hops along my halo
I saw a woman I once loved 
wrapped in the storm clouds, gliding
There's a murmur in the shifting 
leaves above me, 
the purest peatland water slowly rises
as though I’m an egg to be pickled
Drowning in the songs of the ancient
the spectral, the still unknown

I sink
Suspended in the cloudy drink
a liquid haze 
a glowing quilt finds itself 
around my shoulder blades
Where I imagine wings 
would be surgically stitched
Adrift in the murky space,
I am an audience to an Annunciation
of marbled crawdads birthing clones
of nature performing miracles
Now I finally find a restful peace
amongst the kaleidoscopic

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