Listening with the I's

A Z of city blocks away from the other nexus that draws strange carnates

I saw you shoveling

Black on white

Balaclava'd, scarved, hooded

Hidden in plain site

I was following the safety line

Anchored in the yesterdays collected and dropped like seeds

from the mountain to the tower

But you

You interrupted the assumptions and currents

Charged with my safe and unchallenged arrival

At the stale-idea exchange

With a glance that wouldn't register until Otis delivered me through the corporate womb:

The snow arced its delivery and landing

Stretched back to the shovel and naked hands

Misted out, ridiculing space's conventions

Becoming a 70's icon

Flew into a gray cotton morning

Thick gathering over a lonely looking sky

Revealing the miracle

for all willing to listen

with their I's

Gods Inkwell (Alone, Together, Into the Sun)

The backdrop.

An existentialist, for whom all points back to the one as opposed to the One. Everything points back to self, and the bright lights of the intellect clearly articulate the borders, the end point. Anything beyond is not worthy of attention, could only be the result of an overactive imagination or the failure to see Reason.

The narcissist, who simply lays claim to the existentialist's illumination as another shimmering piece of chattel, more of the inventory that can be used in the supply and demand of their need's needs.

Picture it.

Endless black, God's inkwell. This time, from nothing, two - the Narcissist and the Existentialist, a mere speck but growing larger. They pass the vantage point and we have a clear view of the two in their bubble, looking through each other with indifference. Things change with light. Faint and diffused at first, silk mesh across the inkwell, blue ice to white heat
to saffron fire.

The Existentialist notices the heat first - the Narcissist his discomfort - as the mercury climbs. First boundary gone as the bubble contorts and dissolves as the sheet of fire grows beyond imagination.

Fear bursts the next boundary unconsciously, as they embrace in the face of the known-unknown. Narcissist's wings blaze around the Existentialist, and for one glorious, naked moment before conflagration, the final boundaries are transcended, four eyes become two eyes; and I-I swallows the sun whole.

Posted by shadechaser at 1:06 PM