to ingest the outburst

I want,

for the drum skin of soul,

where reverberations warm me 

with soothe,

where air breathes me 

into light in passage.

I have needs, 

for sorrow to grow wings.

we all have needs, 

to taste the lightness of being,

where the seediness of heartache 

blooms into emotional wing-petals, 

glee-facing,

where the gravity of backstage smolder

relents, 

to become an all-everything embrace,

where rumble becomes a heat-seeking roar,

where murmur becomes the boom of quietude,

solemnly awash, 

from the heavens of ascent,

where the magic of mood 

is atmospherically transformed,

where we are 

unearthly gleefully unabashed.

I have no more the lips 

of earnest request.

I am embrace, 

beyond the feel 

or the need for connection.

there is a oneness resounding,

beyond the drum-reverberation 

of earsplitting presence,

as if electrifying was from beyond 

the realms of thunderous,

where vast and void kiss into the eternal,

where I had breath, 

but now I am light.

no meaning has survived this transcendence. 

being is from beyond 

the cumulative of experience,

where vibrancy has no audience 

and are all there, 

fluidly into these soft torrents,

where the dream is ever

to outburst 

into the vapor of this,

all of this,

the oneness stream . . .