MUSHROOM m i n d

By Steph Raymond All Rights Reserved ©

Other / Poetry

Blurb

Her life passed in seasons. Not conventional ones, you see; in which lengths are predetermined and storms are predictable. They passed rather sporadic and mercurial, like waves in constant change of motion— pushing towards land but never quite reaching it. Until one day the earth absorbed each liquid drop in eager consummation. Water and Earth merged together in a passionate embrace like hydrogen and helium unifying into a heap of space-dust, readying to fuse together until a star is born. She felt the emptiness that once consumed her s l o w l y dissipate as the void itself became full with brilliant e l e c t r i c i t y. That was the moment. The moment her past seasons drifted off to the place where memories die to make way for newer, sweeter stories dipped in honey. The moment time stopped and l i g h t dipped into the cracks of her bones to make its home there- in the spaces where fear and loathing used to sleep. She thought this must be what a butterfly feels like the very moment it sheds the shell which encumbered its true form. f r e e . . This was it- the moment her soul recognized him. The beginning of a new season.

11/09/2012

11/09/2012

Her life passed in seasons.

Not conventional ones, you see;

in which lengths are predetermined

and storms are predictable.

They passed rather sporadic

and

mercurial

like waves in constant change of motion—

pushing towards land

but never quite reaching it.

Until one day the earth absorbed

each liquid drop in eager consummation.

Water and Earth

merged together in a passionate embrace

like hydrogen and helium unifying into a

heap of space-dust,

readying to fuse together

until a star is born.

She felt the emptiness that once consumed her

s l o w l y

dissipate as the void itself became full with brilliant

e l e c t r i c i t y.

That was the moment.

The moment her past seasons drifted off

to the place where memories die to make way for newer,

sweeter stories dipped in honey.

The moment time stopped and

l i g h t

dipped into the cracks of her bones

to make its home

there-

in the spaces where

fear and loathing used to sleep.

She thought this must be what a butterfly feels like

the very moment it sheds the shell which encumbered its true form.

f r e e .

This was it:

The moment her

soul recognized him.

The beginning of a new season.

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