Circling round to a time of solitude.
Time running, overlapping
cosmically juxtaposing one reality over another
life refracts, crosses over to SOMEWHERE…
there is deja vu, those dreams that you can’t shake –
that split you open, draw you through
to an alternate existence –
where possibilities are the reality and
you inner desires manifest brilliantly,
publicly, exhibited under a spotlight
out from the hidden recesses.
Drawn back through the wormhole,
to a time of quiet retreat; living
in the shadows, to recharge, regroup,
lick ones wounds and assess, to form the vision,
to listen to the heartbeat, to hear the rhythm,
to chant the mantra, to feel the swell of the next rising
and to ride the wave
as it comes around again.

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