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stepping into a new dark
that forces me to seek for marks
passing twixt hallways, spiral stairs
that need a rhyme because of one who cares...
opening windows, receiving strange visions
slowly getting used to changed conditions
a labyrinth of spiritual ways
– a mentalized space of black and grays
feeling amazed
     and curious about conscious sparks
while stepping through that new dark
a pleasant shade is flowing around
a felt sense – made out of words with no sound

      manure and mare

tracing worlds that hide in between the layers
of time: asking children fix a paradox prayer:
I found a fox chatting with birds
that strangely differently occurred
no chance to understand their words
meaning I felt left in thoughts
without being a knowing player
facing worlds that hide between the layers
right where I'm walking
      without the necessity for talking
to them being cast to fit right in
our new creation of imagining
that older dark that I have been