I exist, bee swarm of cells,
around the core of Spirit.
Chaos half translated into form
incarnate and seeking to be stable
a wreath of scents and colours
searching for a tapestry
to hang an image from,
a statement of existence
to challenge the shift
the shimmer of my mutable nature
here, not here
an echo heard so deep within the ear
it sounds like silence
feels like tears
or whispers trailing fingers
in the pools that ripple
with the futures I inhabit
eternal dissolution
recreating forever moments
of existence to glow
amid the dark between the stars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem