Salvation is…
I am reflecting. Would it be accurate to conclude
That Salvation is a form of invasive, fiery penetration?
One perception or another, in one age or another?
Apocalyptic, penetrating salvation in another cosmic orbit?
For hell is eternal void, entire absence of essence.
A hollow wasteland, absent of vibration or motion.
My own salvation – I do declare – is the one I resonate with,
And within.
In my own, new salvation I am my own savior.
New minds and spirits orbit around my own personal space,
Hovering all over me, penetrating my creative self,
giving birth to new shapes and forms, yet to be born.
This newborn salvation is free-wheeling, weightless.
No more pressure against the earth, the bed, the chair.
The head on the pillow, the pelvis that bears so much.
This salvation is for the singing, the picturing, the talking,
The minding – from within the midst of the other.
The untouchable midst, that I once touched, penetrated,
And carried on… and on… and on…
