The Synergist

As a child he discovered how to assimilate, merge and verge. His five senses did not become six, but a number closer to one. That day, water drooled over mossy stones. He smelled the splash of foaming atoms, the explosive opening of water-buds. He thought to himself: 'I can paint my mind over the sky as if it were a cave wall.' A swan rose up, wings clattering, water ligaments pulling a wingspan through a Catherine Wheel of sound. His senses flew together forming clumps of reality which seemed to him to be new planets, realities thrown from the minds of angelic water voles and frogs. He thought: 'If I place myself into these little worlds I can leave my footprints on running water, or on the air as if I were a bird created by the light of a foreign sun.'