The Light of Dark

I am…

my imaginings verging on sane
lighting up ideas in the dark
churning the cauldron of angels
lifting me and my doubts
giving me to where I long
and maybe
if I feel the tremor
carry me back
where feelings warm again yet scared
heart racing like a feather's flutter in a hurricane
turn my hour glass once again

I am a man…

vibrating with the collaborative
as flood lights arc
visceral memories resonate through my tissue
recalling the tweak of mind spasms
clenching tight the pages of script
when first a voice uttered the word
when first an image came alive
pushing me into a theatre's black tornado night

I am a man inside-out…

knowable from afar
by the never-sleep-look of my eyes
the Murine forever poised between my fingers
calming the synaptic lightning
forever thundering across my lens

I am a man inside-out and reaching…

re-born in swirling mind's weather
the storm's eye seeking calm
clearing overhead clouds
where some know my blasphemous ignoring of gods
whose sacrosanct eggshells no one is to tread upon
where suits now tremble at the laser of my eyes
crossing me at their peril
knowing I can swallow their light
forever smothering the anger lashing them into their spin
cocooning their palm trees by my own spin of another kind

I am a man inside-out reaching for…

when Urania sets to flight my head

 hurtle me into the vacuous silence
whiteness of black forever filling my palette with color
laced with the dissonance of my melodies.

I am of what

I know not of