Just for this moment,
Stop trying to be better,
to get somewhere else,
to change anything about anything at all.
Set down your weapons and your tools
and your books about How To Be,
just for this moment,
Come lay your head down upon my soft lap
and allow that sacred space within your chest
(the one you guard with fangs and crooked daggers)
to open like a flowerhead.
Welcome home, Boundless.
I will stroke your hair
and coax that hidden eye in your forehead
(the one you protect with dead thoughts and habit)
Do you see now that you have been knocking
this whole time upon the inside of your own front door,
begging to be let in?
Sunflowers and octopus trees are growing from the rusty war planes,
and the vultures have all turned herbivorous.
The sky is filling with silent white birds,
white birds with your heart flower in their chests.
A passing tortoise looks at us and sighs,
relieved that we’re finally starting to get it,
and the sound is echoed by the earth and the sky.
You can smell the soil in your nose and feel it in your bones.
Everything crackles with color and presence.
The eel angels are singing,
and your heart is singing with them,
and you are now as you always were:
If you enjoyed this, subscribe to my website’s mailing list and watch for emails that say “Summa Psychonautica” in the title. This is an ongoing project which will turn into a book at some point in the future. In the meantime, consider buying my first book Woke: A Field Guide for Utopia Preppers.