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Wordless in a New Place

Word whispers grab my ear and
fill the silver tube with sibilance.
The time tunnel takes me through
a thousand years at a clip,
with a million voices crying out,
telling their story.
One tale emerges,
of which we all are a part.
I feel it in my whole body—
it passes through me
as I am shot through history
until I emerge,cleansed,
in a broad, open landscape—
the future, or the past?

I am out of time.
The trip has freed me of time’s veils
and here I stand, now,
in this moment, but not of it.
The vista is one of pure possibility.
Smoothly I have fallen, not falling,
allowing the spaciousness to ride me
beyond myself to the mystery.

I am speechless.
No words can penetrate the silence,
the benign, living silence.
Yeasty clouds devour the extraneous.
All that remains is essence.
As my words are taken away,
and my thoughts,
I am aware that there is
no necessity for them.
Everything is communicated;
nothing needs saying.

Bliss settles in my bones
(do I have bones?)
I yield to its gentle arrival.
I float without tether
in the womb of the world,
with individuation behind me—
or yet to come.

by Carol Kohli



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