This New Story

I remember laughing

— so long ago and far away

from this sea of pain

we float in oily

separation on the surface.

We polish words like zenith

and nadir to allow smug

disdain to flavor

our perceptions.  As if

we’ve forgotten our connection,

that contemptible, lamentable

big toe

down in the despicable depths

of a different

less-than galaxy.  Not our kind.

Quite isolated and useless.

When we peer with

bleary eyes

from the binging,

will it occur to us to tune

in to the child

picking through piles

of discards

our hunger

inseparable?

Willing at last to be labeled

crazy

as we affirm

these crumbling foundations

lie.

Lunatics released

from the narrative of denial

of the negative space

which illuminates

our unity.

We’ll laugh later.

Now is the time for the cleanse

of searing tears

just before we welcome

everyone home.

Inspired by Occur, Zenith and  Tune

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

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