A poem by Me

Part 1

Oneiric, soft and hazy
My view allows
To the pool in which we dive.
The light diffuses to a faint glow
And is lost in a deep, eternal ocean.
They say there is no wild shift on breaking water.
A place to hold, to wait, to keep.
I say a land of air, a land of sea
Upright on my feet.
Or my head.
Once in the water I would alter, so great.
A changed person, but not myself.

I layed then on my side.
The plate removed from off my sight,
There was but a painful breeze between the ocean and I.
The light collected, the haze focused
And I beheld myself.
I looked at my face and heard my thoughts.
It is so familiar.

Hadn’t it always been like this?


Part 2

Inward- so far-
I found a line, a ring, a sphere
Of mild bliss. Sharpness pulled or dampened,
Color watered down to greys I thought was
Life.

But this was ideal. And I did not wish for more.

As it was, surrounding lines or rings or spheres
of bright magenta, nerves shot with sharp thrills
Gazed upon me with wishful envy.
Flipped, though, there was pity but compassion weak,
for a mind that knows only greys can never see else.
This thought echoing in my head, ashamed, I dared a drop of color
to dissolve around my sphere's surface. I quickly removed the dare in fear.
But the realization still lingered.
I knew there was pain but could not see it.

A day came that the tiniest drop of green touched my sphere.
Immediatly after the shock of color on my skin passed,
the Universe took a shape in which greys were
illuminated by splotches of greens, dark, light, bright and damp.
I was sensitive to those with darker green than I,
and I thanked I had not been given more.

But I knew that colors settled and healed leaving
extreme beauty like nothing I could imagine.
And so I left myself willing from the knowledge
to recieve what drops may come
That someday I may Glow.