Light shimmers on air-struck fire,

a match to aether bright

Blood red, tarnished gold

petal of poppy in our veins...

And the ice within

surrenders, s l o w l y,

lapping at the unconscious,

sieving through porous intellect,

trickling down to lower levels,

embalming each chakra

on the energy path,

gathering momentum

until the impossible


passion and peace

prepare the royal way

to contemplative silence.


Nyuka Anas Laurent    30.01.2010