Circumspecte

An attempt at describing the indescribable experience of inspiration and poetry writing It is often said that the mystical happens at the crossroads between time and space With its crescendo undulations of past, present and future, the beach is exactly that Walking along the breadth of such on a lazy Sunday morning, you encounter the known The grainy touch of micro bead stones, sandy to the touch The shelly capsules of vast underworlds unexplored And saline airy kisses brushing against your face as you walk on Often left unsaid is the fact that those unique time-space continuums spring upon you Reminiscent of African thunderstorms upon the land But how could they? Even they fall victim to its mysterious power And so it happens; your turn awaits and so does it arrive Pocket of mysticism sucking you in One minute sturdy land, the next gooey, spinning and comforting all at once And in that moment an eternity occurs Flashes of your entire life unfolding before your eyes ...