Dean Elphick

Self

 

Write something beautiful.
If only I had the words,
the delicate control
over language
required to craft
spectacular art.
Mind paint
bursting into life
on the synapses of another’s brain.
Imagine
chemical reactions to be colours,
a full spectrum of thoughts
to explain
all of this.
Or is everything the pitch of night?
Is this why we can’t control
the way we feel?
We have whip-quick,
intense reactions
without the ability
to ever define the action.
If I see a rainbow reflecting
in eyes
I match it with
my marble swirl.
But it bubbles with stars,
burning,
retreating,
returning.
A molten pot
being constantly stirred.
Not disturbed,
but necessarily spurred
to go searching
reaching down into rich earth
for meaning.
Expanding consciousness
like wind-borne mist
through forest,
river,
mountain,
animal.
Making a list
of all the things
engaging me,
there’s always something I miss
and whatever was there,
disappears.

 

 

 

 

Dean Elphick – Unitarian Universalist