Rolling In Green Fields

I was reposed on green velvet when a notion struck, so, I took out my tweezers and set to task painstakingly I separated minute fibers of spirit, away from itself after examining each shimmer as it waxed and waned, a lifeline of ego and id refracted from Father I fell into conundrum what had I done ?? it was only when daffodils bloomed and the blue heron arrived that my tweezers breached a void I was astonished to find a vast empty cavern, and without its whole the inner was, nonexistent I begin a new endeavor of reconnection for, what was once a spirit for life throwing a dustcover on the typewriter, and sheathing my pen I have but Milli seconds left on this page I detect the scent of lilies mixed with myrrh, I follow, and in my wake a white dingo steps light as riding his back the claws of a blue heron relax, into the syncopation of journey at each step the strips of separation, refashion a new age on the horizon Esperanza swirls veils of green velvet and in the peripheral La Mort’s shadow curls, ever closer