Coalescence
A Journal Scribbling: Free Verse
A partition in the journal bound beads of thoughts
in coherence of what ought to be and what not,
sweeping wind from the ceiling gushing over
engraved pulp, Of forests, once seeds.
The junction where composed heaviness of ink
dispersed riding air waves, eyes swollen from liberated curiosity,
neck soured from early awakening, heart silent and oblivious,
struck by the sounds
coming from within somewhere-
somewhere, that felt more home than the house of invasion.
Suddenly, the loop begins to churn
the resistance in between- the soul and rest,
stimulation arose as the approaching unison
of the man and the mirror, subdued the unknown
by merging “present” and the universe.
It resides here- heavens, hell, questions,
affairs, answers, desires,
incompleteness, expansiveness.
Everything that exists and will cease to-
slowly slanting inside lying energy,
on a 7*6 ft Sheesham king-sized bed,
in contact with oneness, and with that
— everything changed.
