A hand dangling on knee,

knuckles and veins archetypally defined;

it could have been Da Vinci’s own.

A midnight bus on its lone, last run

soundlessly pastel with pinkish light.

See-through foliage, neon dappled

dreamily shifting.

The  lantern-show profile of a bicycle,

in slow-motioned soft-focus, floats

silently down the road of its own volition.

One dimensional figures in monochrome

saunter here, pause, loll there, ponder,

the glow from late-night traffic

conjuring halos fuzzed around heads,

each spike of hair, nose and shoulder

 outlined with calligraphic grace:

silhouetting the perfect Adam blueprint,

its geometry and variability frozen

 in movement. 

 

Shapes:

A tower-block set with square, cat-eyes.

A sleeping figure hunched under shawls.

A church spire as if etched out of silk.

Hushed voices, subliminal, murmur

close to each other’s breath.

A cellist arced like a leaning bough

over her bow.

Down a swooping tunnel of trees

glimmering with their own inner radiance

moon-smudged couples mooch, ebbing

in and out of visibility, sea-befogged.

 

As if Time itself wound down,

so each step cranks into lower gear

deepening and lengthening frequencies

to an endless hummm…

each railing, sign-post, bench, wall

taking an age to blip softly by,

thinning into the air.

 

As if it’s all drifting away to other zones,

floating off in underwater sleep

becoming weightless, transparent...

and yet - fully conscious and alert.

 

An aria, a piano chord, a flautists note hang suspended, a’shimmer edgelessly, fibonacci sequenced.

The spaces inbetween full of substance,

somehow.

Brain frequencies slowly swoon.

No trance or trip, but purest presence,

 with hypnagogic clarity

where furrowed brows, mind-creases,

taut necks and fists, scrunched hearts

screwed up eyes and lips

smooth out, unfurl, release and open up

like angel wings, transfigured.