Vernon S.



    In the void between

    the folded layers of time

    far from home, alone

    in need of an other,

    I seek genesis

    And part from my self,        

    separtiung the light

    from the dark;

    And I am face-to-face

    Like Janus, looking at the past

    But seeing the future.

    And I  give birth to now.    

    And I gaze at the unfamiliar;

    yet, with a sense that 

    I am seeing it anew,

    ... it reminds me of home.

    home is beyond the horizon;

    which I can never reach, 

    even at relativit speed,    

    yet I can 

    feel the warmth

    of an other's reflection

    in the glossy obsidian 

    and smoky topaz

    of the ruins

    where I have landed.

    I write in my little book, 

    unimportant notes which mirror

    my speculations about who

    and as I attempt to speak the  

    thought aloud, a spark of no thing

    pierces the veil of protection, the 

    flames of understanding burn away 'the clouds of unknowing

and I am become an other,

an endless reflection  of being and             

not being, of no thing snd some thing.        

    And on the broken wings of nemesis

    I am carried aloft and dropped

    on a mountaintop,

    cloud hidden, whereabouts unknown.