april 21 2025

an apparition of the future
distilled in the silence of my makeshift studio office
and the flowers my lover got me, just because
orange-yellow tulips and the creak of old wood
I don’t see pictures in my mind
but I know things
and the psychic drive of it all is what fuels me
everyone needs a call to keep going
I hear a bell, distant yet resonant
I have a staff in my hand - simple shapes can fill all holes
and this is the pulp of life

I have a dream about a plane
flying against a clear blue sky
it goes up and up and up
it disappears into the stars