by George "Papa" G.
Contrary too many beliefs, the flexibility of the community
to which I belong can brighten the day of any mystic.
Thirteen or alone, we each can be one with the "One."
A circle drew within, private property of the mind;
my mind. Breathing, steady and calm,
sensory deprivation of Caesar's world
increases as power cones;
scintillating the very air around me.
Reality's illusions waiver,
voices sing, visions dance,
taking another chance, choices will be made
here by old Galveston bay.
My cohorts this night naught but Gods bright
and, thoughts right.
Seeking the she that is in all of us, we,
I grow and glow, remembering I am nothing;
everything, but a spark of the eternal flame.
Tis true my children, my friends,
we are living sparks.
Papa G © Friday, February 28, 2003
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