You arrive at long last
after uncountable eons
to the valley of blue lilacs.
A dragon made of pink roses and old books
rises up from the foliage to meet you
and asks if you have any weapons.
You show it the space in your mind
where your armory used to be,
now occupied only by the hissing static
of an old television.
You show it how your soft, tender belly
takes in the sunlight
and the smells
and the songbirds.
You are gentle,
says the dragon.
It licks your nose
and transforms into a tiny pink worm
and curls up in your pocket
around your chapstick.
The valley belches yellow birds into the sky,
and they sing your original name.
It is a good name.
You’d forgotten it.
You sit full lotus on a large mushroom
and let your leaf wings unfurl.
We are all so small,
whispers the worm.
The song of the birds carries
to the cheap seats of the universe.
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.