I met this sun, light years away from its beginning,
A ball of self-consuming flame
In a perpetual manifestation of brilliance.
Awestruck, can’t begin to describe
My state of being. And then, Yo,
It tried to lick me with its fiery tongue!
But little did it know that
I am a phantom of its future obsession, encoded in
Its perpetual intercession for the beloved.
The blind that I see is looking for…me?
The blind that don’t see is looking for…me!
A masquerade tumbling in search of a concussion to jolt
Its being back to blindness, shunning the parade of enticing rust, and
Consuming its fiery tongue to whisper smoke into my dreams:
…Cats, turtles, and bridges, …
Cats, turtles, and bridges, …
Cats, turtles, and bridges
…And that key imprinted on the tips its rays seek from me
Through soils: a husband, a prophet, and a priest. The one to
Bring nurturing, the one to sow awakening, the one to speak blessing.
But, the blind that I see is looking for…me.
The blind that don’t see is looking for…me?
Had to leave him nestled in his temple, awakening his third chakra.
I am the beginning and the end: the purity he seeks, the
Peace he needs, the depth he craves, and the death he braves.
Lost into myself till such a day a collision manifests conditions for
An amnesiac awakening, a return to the essential
I recede to envelope that sun.
For the blind that I see is looking for…me.
The blind that don’t see is looking for…me.
© Apuk Ayuel Mayen 2018.