The reeds shake, speak through my teeth.
(What was that?)
Breathe deep...

'Midst rainbows the sun seethes.
An airy noise pervades Being.
The vast beyond becomes the sea
of the wide and proud Elohim.
"What do I call you?" the brain screams.
A pulse of voice beats, "Ayin"...

Hung in eternal interest,
infected with perspectives,
one weird, unyielding seed
absurdly starts to speak,
"The Sefirot is naught
but 10 but 1 but 9 but 5.
Subtracted from this God
my feet grow weary, caked with time."

Words collapse, voices retreat.
The viscera remembers meat.
Which me is dreaming? the heart beats.
I remember nothing but Ayin.

06/10/2009

Posted on 06/10/2009
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