Zero Point.

Plot a course to the zero
point,
Anoint the fire to tread
the water,
Vapor, steam, a seamless
stream,
Mud, murky grey, lifeblood
at odds,
Gods of blind on the playing
field of mind,
Blocking the way back to
the grand sum of
all,
Keys to the fall, answering
the call,
Zero to one and back again,
Laying plain in the brain,
Here it comes again...

Shuddering out of control
to that inner space,
Planted in timeless now wishing
to hide its' face,
That faceless, nameless name of
all games,
Games to things as the grand
sound sings,
Crashing deep to that dreamy
sleep,
It burst forth from the moisture
and mud,
The clay concealing the fire,
at odds, looking a little
higher,
Then they take a breath, one
returns to zero...

Seeking not what should it
find,
Nothing other than all
is mind,
The blind leading the blind,
This Zero Point to finally
unwind,
To breath, to feel, to leave
it all behind...
-END-
(C) D.C. Chapman 05/20/2011