Full moon light: shadows casting a thick green hue…succulents and grass the blue burn of flame…pale petals and stone a spectral glow.
My mind alternated: a restless city half-sleep and distant desert visions: bat wing rhythms and night blooming cereus.
A song of insect and flora storming my senses: the lightning branches voicing a distant convergence: an ethereal billowing about my body and jointed arachnid legs edging past my feet.
Stepped monolithic gods poured of blood: evoke a wild serenity: my son whispering at the back of my ear: They hold all the secrets. Will they respond? If my canvases call or your film?
…so I walk towards, closing the distance until I can place my palms to the preserved flesh…shutting my eyes and letting down all guard…feeling a pull…a pulse…a warmth…a glow…
…my silences, loud as they’ve been…have still more to learn from the immortals and beasts of arid land…
…the maps remain…long after I’ve shaken sleep from my bones…
E.A. O'Connell
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