I connect with reality in ways
quite strange.
Dreaming and malcontent
with dreams which cut the throat.
Screaming, questioning, all these
part of a reality
as large as the world
or oceanic seas.
My reality is not simply
confined to dreams but
also tossing in sea waves
of people
colliding, colluding
throwing snipers in the gauntlet.
Little hellish, but worth it
all the same. Touching toes, feet
and kissing sun dials, flirting
with these hills of destiny, sometimes
though volatile. Layers of colours
from whose bosoms flowers spring
and waterfalls emanate.
My reality also rests in imponderables.
Simply wishing.
Simply thinking and imaging me
up in the moon
to see the cauldron of the world
hanging
upside down. A little twisted.
Gnarled like oaken branches
of heady trees.
