No Sense

A poem about how I see the world through my senses

Photo by Valeria Voevodina on Unsplash

I see the world through senses

Each one tuned

To its own frequency

A delicacy of delight

Feelings take flight

As sight finds

Beauty on which to hold gaze

A tree’s wisdom speaks to me

In a shimmer of hushed leaves

And crackly bark begging touches

A spark from a fire which burns bright at night

Flames licking my edges

Burnt orange to crimson

Heat builds, fire ignites

My soul full of passion

I am cooled by the moon

As she beams her beneficence

Her tides move mine, my rhythm simpatico

Divine Goddess gleaming

Intuition streaming

Into consciousness

Ripping cognitive stress from

My fragmented brain

The feeling of fingers which

Linger too long on the back of my neck

Can wreck me

Truly

Heart unruly

At last I rebel!

And swell with sensations

No limits

Creations which spill

From my lips

From my pen

From the wild thoughts within.

I welcome them all

They render me whole

Music has power

It boxes my ears

Finding my fears

And wringing me dry

As I cry inside and out

I have no skin

It’s illusion

I’m raw through and through

Words mark me deeply

Strip layers from me

I hammer emotion

Which shatters my bones

Ribs ache with longing

But break with the punches

Bourn by a soul too tender for life

Tea tastes as comfort

A way through dark gloom

As is the bloom

of a rose

Buds open to sun

my senses, make no sense

but small things they reset

It’s all that I need

to be here right now

Pre sense

Presence

My senses, make no sense