Introducing the art of journaling as a form of meditation. |
Journatation My mood brewed dark as a cloud, twisting and turning in the damp sky, tearing to reveal your bright white flashes, threatening and slapping the earth like spit, waiting until I and only I choose to unfetter my better mood— though it can’t preclude my persistent attitude. And this comes when I wake and shuffle out of the bedroom, down the stairs, into the cubby hole, in front of the window, and behold the sunrise in my eyes— may it melt away the mood of the day. And all this happens while my pen wiggles, light as a star twinkling in the night sky, bright and brighter still, lone jewel seeming to toss me gleaming rays, digging past the chattering haze, from the last of the dreaming phase. And this came after I opened you, the journey called journaling through, knowing that “pen” is not the latter part of “open” by accident— I turned past the front page, to where I left you yesterday, left to go to the "side" and play, building to that depraved dream— and the mood I did just deem— to be your antithesis, in the extreme. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Written within the parameters of the theory of "Multivalence" . For a "pruned version" of this concept, see "The Book" |