A silent roar
Words are becoming foreign landscapes to me as the language of the sensuous beckons.
I have a longing to hear a silent circular chord that encompasses everything in existence.
One long note,
a sound, a cry,
a hum of eternity wrapped inside the pulse of no-thing.
How I long to return to the invisible wisdom before words were etched
Before straight lines were drafted.
Instead I wish to speak through circles and spirals.
To transmit my chord through a cyclical language with no beginning, middle or end.
I want to remember my illiteracy
and celebrate my amnesia.
I want to burn all books and erase all minds of the deep horrors that took place when we encased timelessness inside full stops and paragraphs.
I want to awaken my ears to the silent roar of every moment that has ever existed- the language of LIFE
registered through the wings of a bird
And the cosmic echo of a black hole merging with itself as a bellowing singularity.
I long to whisper in colour and to scream in hues.
To activate my sonar self that feels the chatter of vibratory symphonies dancing between any two forms.
I want to converse with the ancient voice of this world.
To speak with the one whose name is existence.
In a dialect that is sourced within my body and spoken as a circle inside my unschooled heart.