Through an ant's view
an unhindered eye of a needle;
words are breathing.
An ongoing flow,
yet I am in trance.
But your glazed-over eyes
are oblivious of the wind.
Your words are sharp,
scathing my senses.
If only in silence you can see
the dream that drifts...
Puffed up podiums
are like balloons when pricked.
Together with the dust;
we are minuscules consumed
by the hollow of the earth.
Strands of words
are but tools spiralling
in zigzag course; trapped
in pride.
may the wind take us,
let the time dissolve
in between.Without an image
we'll blend...
Alice Cuenca
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/communing-with-a-god/
