Party of the Aeons

 

Show me an unlikely spirit,

one that gazes up high

and takes the stars down,

one by one,

fashioning a necklace,

and once bejeweled,

dances in the darkness.

 

Give me a strange day,

let morning become evening,

slowly rising from the West

to sit above us in the dead of night.

 

Give me whisky,

laced with poison,

one that I have long drawn

a strong immunity to.

The taste of the tincture

lingers on my tongue,

like the name of a lost lover.

 

Let the music play,

tantric beats and esoteric words.

Let voices rise and fall

in time with the rhythms

that stutter the heart,

catch the breath,

and sing

to the disquiet

in the soul.

 

Keep me in odd company.

Not those

whom you expected to be here.

The prince and the pauper,

the righteous and the wicked,

the thief and the chief of police.

 

We all gather

in bent twilight,

under the cascading aurora

that shimmers out long streaks

of unimaginable color

and winds up and down

through the spaces

between here and Heaven.

 

We exist

for no other reason

than to be present

at this unlikely convergence.

A shared dream.

A mass delusion.

Psychotropic event.

Group hallucination.

 

This

nexus of space and time,

divergent from this point,

that leaves

no one who attended to it

unchanged afterwards.

A party of the aeons.

 

 

HG – 2022

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