After the rain 🌈

each hue ricocheted

rippled up

the crown it glowed

in white

Joy.

that’s what I felt

no, it’s what I know

every little error I could misconstrue

was eradicated

Evaporated.

no chain or lock clicking my throat

Ajna awake

Anahata speaking

open my words

the earth is weeping!

my intention poured

it was all the same thing

Love.

shaking

breaking

building

moulding

creating

I was the creator of my destiny

suddenly, I knew it

I, we, she, knew it

we all came in to it

a tidal wave of flickering light

1 lighter swaying

10,000 in a stadium

unifying

solidifying

Purpose.

Love.

Meaning.

Life.

I was as transient as a shower spell

twinkling in a spectrum

of airborne water

reflecting on my very being

and every being

as a collection

of sentient bedazzlement.

we were all the Colours

we were all a particle

a bigger picture.

fleeting, short,

a blink of an eye.

and the rain dispersed

as I bowed my lid,

in subtle appreciation

to the closing of the show.

until the next time

I join the rainbow.

Shadow Self

Shy is the poet

The Singer, the shadow

Ruled by the ego

Yet scared of the show

Safe is the poet

Content in her habit

Steady is the tortoise

So why chase the rabbit?

Magic is music

But stunted by fear

A book full of lyrics

That you’ll never hear

Prose opposes the posey

Pansy within me

Her search for affirmation

Contradict the roots to the tree

Grounded is my musing

The wordy eternal stream

Scattered is the pipeline dream

That’s running out of steam

Untraceable

Maybe, it excites me to know that no one knows where I’ve trodden.

Even the Aristocrat’s limestone griddles I drip between

Can’t catch me winding round their alleys,

As they sweat with the insurgence of poverty

The homeless laying open-mouthed in the acid rain.

And even they didn’t spot me,

Between the blending of their bones to the ivory.

These desaturates slow-bake in tort light - so sore on the modest eye.

Red-handed claps, won’t beat for the

X-Ray puppet-show of shadows.

And what a shame everyone missed it.

But, more... that they don’t.

Dust.

We all burn to a cinder here,

In some way.

Even the pocket-heavy suffer this form of decay.

I do too... but I think I like it.

Because no one knows which slab my toe has licked

As I marvel at the artisan and the beggar’s beige sick.

I’m invincibly invisible here -

Only one watching is CCTV.

And even that’s got no intention of catching me.

As I have no voice, face or presence.

Each time I return, I retreat in depression.

But that’s freedom too - as I am nothing here.

Nothing to you.

Nothing and no where.

And, neither are you.