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Inside Out


Photo of Painting by Vladimir Kush - my own
Doors of the Night

The sun had been warming the inner chamber

Dawns coolness lingered

Morning light, pale and golden

Redolent of a halcyon state

Filtered down through the palm fronds

Casting its iridescence on the stairway

The colossal doors at the top, gilded regal sentries

The gecko lets forth one last chirp before retiring

Walking deliberately up the stairs

Mindful of the silence and the scarabs still drowsing

The high priest slowly pulls the door ajar

He heard the noise again

A vibrating subliminal resonance

An abject interruption to his meditation

The moon’s sliver is no match for the ebony night

A meteor shower is underway

Tektite debris clutters the landings on the stairs

He sees the soft glowing light off in the distance

Its beguiling, dangerous beauty

Belies the ominous secrets hidden in the heavens

The risk, should he venture forth could prove mortal

The sun has risen above the horizon now

The stairs have liquefied, an unobstructed footpath is behind him

Palm shadows only seem to define riser seams

The gecko has nested in the fronds, imperceptible

It will return at twilight in a repeat performance to escort the dawn

The priest must hurry and return to the chamber

The sunflowers require pruning

The day has just begun

Nightfall is just around the corner

He is trying to remember clearly

The truth has been proscribed

Is he going out or is he coming in?

He can’t pin it down without a doubt

In superfluous actuality his condition can be described

He’s just like all the rest of us – a bit of inside out

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