Dec 28, 2011

Global Antics Produced by Inner Chaos

I see the world as a globe,
Rubberball I can press and release perhaps,
Ball of clay I can push, poke, and press,
Squeeze, stretch, strap
Like playdoh to my hand, and then unlatch back onto the kitchen table.

Ready to be mashed and built and separated and put together again,
Ready to be played, on, in, with.
Out.

I see the world,
as a reflection of what is inside,
the World,
merely a reflection echoing visually
What I do not see Inside...
Balance echoing chaos.

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