A Day for Diving

It started last night.

Words like mist on petals. And I knew that it was time to listen.

Yank myself from the relentless data streams and prepare for my ears to pop.

In through the nose, out through the mouth.

Contrary to popular belief, it isn't swagger that propels you downward, it is need. Weakness allowing the dive.
Vulnerability the portal.
Allegiance absolute.

Smooth, even breaths.

     I'm ready to know what I'm afraid to admit.

     Willing to be a fool in a bright yellow scarf waving from across the way.

     What will you do with enlightenment once it humbles you?
     Does it hover over your shoulder or set up
     camp?
     Does it scream or murmur or whisper?
     Flash, illuminate or blind?

A sigh answers the questions.

Yawn.
Pop.

Last night it said,

A midwife, a lenses, a kaleidoscope condensed

Altered by pressure, resistance and light--

Distilled. 

Splattered so far and wide, to places scarcely pondered...

Loosely precise in bytes.

{edible or not}

Rarely pinned, just urged right up to the edge--spinning.

In burst and in flow

Further down and further out.

There is only the falling.
Consciously relinquishing hold of your frame--
Keeping your eyes open, yes?