Silent clouds slide
across a consciousness
bereft of purpose,
centered on the
idea of unthinking,
of deconstruction as
the first step
toward redemption, I
feel the motion,
the miniscule,
forgotten and move
my center…move
my ideas from
possible to unthinkable
…feel the movement
the static transformation
of a glorious
if forgotten past,
all toward, all
toward, all toward
an end unseen,
un-thought of in
these small and
wayward moments…slipping
like sand away,
away, away and
forever away from
who I am
from this moment
to the next
I breathe clouds
perspire sunlight and
dream a galaxy
into dark existence
and redemption for
all I am.