Monday, October 27, 2014


This self-contained star of me,
this egoistic organism, where
subjectivity and egocentricity
would call the tune, or, if it

were allowed, then narcissism
would drag cool fingers through
the pool of mind, absorbed in
Self, that singularity of the I,

unique in being, solipsistic and
defined – and yet I am me, and
so much more than just this, for
this point of consciousness

embraces all that is, from tiny
moments in the here and now,
to the spread of futures yet to
come and a past, which stands

behind, across this universe,
and on through cosmic realms,
where the aeons wait expectant,
and possibility flies on shining

wings of imagination, within
the heady realms of diffuse
awareness, from which all
does come, and in which all

is sourced, beyond time and
place, beyond either/or, to and,
beyond then and now – in that
instant of bright becoming.

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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