PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The Cross





The cross, it is a conduit

Into which and out of

Come the energy in the room



I lay on the floor unable to move

And a light bulb comes on

But not in my head but above



It is the energy that is me

It is what I would be if me

At all places at once



I want to become that synergy

To become E

To move out in all directions on all

surfaces



Look now all the excited photons

Orphans from the mother sun

Umbelical still dangling, oh how

embarrassing



Look how they multiply and round off

They carry over and they reduce

Then they germ in the terminus



But the cross is still there

With all human blossoms on the intercise

A symbiosis of it and the minus



My insides coil around themselves

Like a fiber of tuncstun

A warm breath from heaven



There are numberless ones now

All infants and elders

Radiance ad infinitum



My body aglow it can move

But with reticense

The reluctance internal



Made movements on piggyback

A bush of eyes urging me on

On a cross made from alien hands