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MICHAELEEN PENNINGTON
Hermitted
Here, quiet surrounds and waits.
Crawl deeper. Inside is safe
Not like this quiet, where only the refrigerator
hums an insensate pulsing rhythm.
Stop hands, don't shake;
pull it all in where darkness
is light.
Where none-ness is being -
stop the churn of stomach
that threatens rebellion.
The choice is made.
It's been sounded;
echo's vibrations are gone.
Stop the inner fear that clutches
with boned fingers
there is no need, no want
Crawl deeper, find that which was, before.
Accept it, be infused with
its desire become again
the hermetic that pulls away from the shades.
This used to be happy,
no needs, no wants, nothingness
was happy, nothingness was feeling.
Happy, content; false death.
Death would be - there -- here
forgotten - forget.
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POETRYREPAIRS 11.11: 128
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