when one is not looking,
not paying close enough attention
a shift occurs
a shift in the earth beneath your feet
a shift in the focus & light gleaning into the circus kaleidoscope
the colors mute and bleed, leaving one
shapes can not be determined, purple becomes blue becomes green becomes
over the events that could crash about one in puddles & shards of emptiness
the fog rolls in cold & hollow - veiling the light
the indigo bubbles fail to rise and your soul is left
in a labyrinth of regret & desire
circling as a thin, grey wolf would
hunt: solitary & famished
how does one keep striving in the shift
how does one believe in the power of .... love
darkness aches for the wound in the soul
and yet .....
there is a smell ....
earth & moistness
something alive and new ....
or is it merely another trick of the kaleidoscope
close your eyes and listen ....