Synchronicity intrudes
again into your life,
holding a mirror
to your shadow side,
the growing black,
the strengthening grip
of a dark desire
kept locked
in a box
between heart and mind
now breaks out and spills
down to the ground,
water, fluid chaos, crying
up and into the sky,
watering your lone stars,
kissing her own…
“And all
as they fall
in line
with mine?”
You find
yourself in a morbid corner,
sinking in a curious quagmire,
brought down
to do or die.
Keep a promise or lie
to one of those dangerously
high on a short list
of souls
to whom you feel
aligned,
she’s probably
the love
of your life,
or at least a mirror,
a shadow,
a reflection
or silhouette
to let you know,
a reminder you’re never
really alone.
Like it or not.
This is the soil
from which hope
grows,
yet ask
yourself: are you truly
the seed
that finally hit bottom?
Transmissions to Earth 