The world is all colours
The world is all colours
exploding slowly,
spinning and swirling
around my head,
shards of reality
reflecting back at me
a million mirages,
fragmented.
The world is aroma
of every memory
layer upon layer
of complex smells,
zigzagging over
the time-space continuum,
concentric sensations
in bottomless wells.
The world is music,
softly surrendering
sounds of sensations
of sadness and joy,
each creature screaming,
its voice interweaving
expressing its presence
in loving alloy.
The world is a poem,
wordlessly spoken,
a caress of the voice,
of the call of creation,
a lyrical longing
to share in the symphony,
the anthem of
self-perpetuation.
The world is a cuddle,
a shaking awakening,
a challenge to battle,
to absorb and collate,
a spiralling hug
of tender sensation,
an infinite expression
of feelings innate.
The world is a riddle,
a cosmic conundrum,
a mosaic pavement
of mystical signs,
an unfathomable ocean
of mathematical equations,
a wonderful whirlpool
of fractal designs.
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