The Promised New

A particle of gold is worthy to be called gold,
Just as the salty taste of a drop of water from the vast sea,
I, endowed with all the qualities that entitle me to the universe,
Every minute measure in me is part and parcel of everything universal

I can feel the earth’s slow vibrations surging me forward,
The unseen yet real black power seems to shift everything,
Everything seems to be moving yet in reality not moving at all,
To places and experiences that are emblematic and intensely unreal

There are many paths each with its’ own doors to different experiences,
The paths have dancing flowers that are unshackled from tangles of leaves,
They contain a sense of indescribable gentleness that makes me forget,
And they are faded into different shades of colors that glee under the sunlight

I am walking in a world that is neatly balanced between dreaming and reality,
Fast images seem to slam my mind with mixtures of hopes and fear,
The meaning of these paths lies in the secret doors of experiences that awaits,
Trying to find these meanings present yet another experience that has no name,

But I know I have to choose between old spells and the promised new,
My face is decorated with double edged expression that betrays my dilemma,
But I force myself to grow away from self doubts that had held me down,
A firm refusal to be schematized and trapped again into old timely patterns,
I know positive power is only realized in its’ penultimate moment of blackness!

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