you can feel it

the little pieces of yourself

just sort of crumbling off and floating about

as if you were dissolving into an ethereal cocktail

of both sensation and a gentle numbness

as your senses seem to sharpen and dull

simultaneously you are aware and unaware

unaware of the cacophony of the hollow engines of the pathetic grind

and acutely aware of the most wonderful details

the vein in a withered leaf

the pillowy texture of the cloud-like seeds of the dandelion

the lazy trajectory of a rain drop crossing a pane of foggy glass

–

you can feel it

as you close off the gates of your mind

and raise the drawbridge granting access

to the fortress of that little piece of you that cares so much

you raise the white flag of surrender over the citadel of your heart

and let the gentle armies of imagination occupy your thoughts

And they take you far outside of yourself

And deep within yourself

And all around yourself

You are aware of a universe that does not exist apart from you

But is as real as the warmth of the air in your lungs

–

you can feel it

the slow descent into the most placid serenity

the excitement of the kinetic narrative about to unfold

and the journey you’ll take as the hero

the stirring drama of which you shall be apart

–

you can feel it

the subtle reverberation of peace throughout your body

the balm-like essence of a dream-induced fog

and though you know it cannot be your home forever

for now it is all you need

for now it is all you want

for this moment

there is nothing else

but vacant bliss

and supernal dreams

~j.d.schofield