It’s always here
40-50 buzzing flies
even the horseflies
the heat beats
upon my head
mostly the forehead and
top
in increments
the natural reaction is
to pull the forehead skin together
in a crinkle
another fly
sits upon my
that’s it
Eye
I
echoes through the gums
caressing the distance to infinity
and settling right back into me
crickets and blue
Wren
Zen
tickling silence
and the colour proof
that everything is all
right
and sitting here
within all of
this
40-50 flies
with one on my foot
and one between my glasses and my
Eye
sitting here
within all of this
crinkles, aches and
tickles
the gentle pin prick
the way the mosquito knows best to
connect
kissing and
our friendship sealed in a tiny drop
an offering to sustain her life
sitting here
within all of this
I always come back to
the inner
Bliss
we can increase the buzzing and
the bites
the heat and prickly,
tender fights
the tension from another’s words
the multitasking tiny herds
the pull back nervous interaction
the spoiled let down satisfaction
but when we are camping here
within all of this
it matters not what seasons say
or complaining pressures come what may
a tinge of whinge
a worry blurry
a feeling of a senseless hurry
for blessed be the camping here
abandoning the steady steer
finally hands laid to lap
the guidance left unto the sap
completely lost amongst the trees
at first bewildered by the breeze
but in a moment I will find
the right directions come in time
in perfect time to make the move
and soon I see my faithful groove
it’s sewn in trust
the path of light
right through the superficial night
give in to that is all it takes
avoid encounters with the snakes
and arriving here back to my flies
each with countless peering eyes
resolutely whole detectives
purpose unbounded in perspectives
being able to see the angles
but more than that to see the tangles
intricate, immensely laid
and each united in a braid
Camping here
within abyss
I thank the flies
who showed me this.