why does this space call form to fly here as that moth is bound
to that light? why do some thoughts land here whilst others
escape? what do you think of that poem chained link by link
of such invisible musings? can you see it here frolicking and
weaving between the lines? do you hear its delicious whisper
calling you to a deeper home? do you feel in your bones that
silent poem of no words, no form, no thing at all? does it sing to
you of a peace that is unending and equally of no beginning?
does it wrap you in a blanket stitched word by word from all the
words of all the poets that ever sat to write and never ever wrote?
submission to Poets United~midweek motif~Peace