Pulse

A message from nowhere,
Here it sits.
In contemplation
Of unknowable perspective

Whirling around, around, around
A pool of conscience
Testing
Testing
Watching
Till the movement gives
And the lights go out.

In, out of time.
On, off, on again.
The space in-between creates the universal pulse
To which one dances.

‘Til

Bars closer than you know.
In the throat
Or as slats of oblong oscillating bone,

Tautly strung as a web of ideas,
Holding floods in their film.
Damming them
As a fire to be set free.


-Ben

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