Non-eye vision penetrates.
The silent song trembles
I weave a pattern to resolve the crisis,
the escape to white space was useless.
The ending of sorrow was a movement on circuit
the center has started vanishing.
Thinking was preventing the completeness of self.
A single flower is answer of nature.
The echo of pulsating memories.
The landscape is full of quotations.
No one reads.
Denials and evasions want more attention.
A new road enters the body
on the edge of a prayer infinitely small,
a handful of vowels sailing in my mind,
give powerful eyes to faith.
The abstracted meaning
leaves a sweet taste in mouth.
I lay out a mud path for the reader.
