deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Calling

They come in flashes
like falling stars
awakening into the fabric
of the rubric, set forth so far -

Sibilant capturing
of attention,
away from the consensus -
setting fragments of time and space on fire:

My eyes.

I see who I am supposed to be.

I see what I am supposed to do.

And I listen.

And the holes
made in this dimension

They glisten
&
gleam.

Yes I guess.

Nothing is what it seems.

But sometimes
yes
sometimes

It is.

Anomalous
is this

Sight seen
in sightless

Feeling
of
Darkness

as

Healing.