A spindle emerges
And worlds retreat into unknowing
On all sides.
The vortex has been reborn
And it figures into the life of spaces
Turgid with the fallen heroes of reminiscence
And motion inflamed.
And around it goes,
Taking time with it and dissolving it
Into hollow particles that move along
Slightly curved corridors
One by one, after a fashion.
And blackened thoughts
Begin to coalesce.
The corridors straighten out
And empty into vacuums of potential being
Sealed by a single, winding thread of excess darkness
Occasionally punctuated by iridescent
Moments of awareness.
Clarity happens best when edges are
Seared and smoothed out,
Connected by the wings of galactic angels
And cosmic vagabonds that sprint in every direction.
Tonight they will all break free
And be seen no more.
The vortex will be shattered and consumed,
Spaces will bend until collapse,
But memories will resume, fully-realized, on all sides.
Art: “Constellation: The Migratory Bird”