a silent roar

Words are becoming foreign landscapes to me as the language of the sensuous beckons.

I have a longing to hear a silent circular chord that encompasses everything in existence.

One long note, a sound, a cry, a hum of eternity wrapped inside the pulse of no-thing.

How I long to return to the invisible wisdom before words were etched

Before straight lines were drafted.

Instead I wish to speak through circles and spirals.

To transmit my chord through a cyclical language with no beginning, middle or end

I want to remember my illiteracy

And celebrate my amnesia.

I want to burn all books and erase all minds of the deep horrors that took place when we encased timelessness inside full stops and paragraphs.

I want to awaken my ears to the silent roar of every moment that has ever existed- the language of LIFE

registered through the wings of a bird

And the cosmic echo of a black hole merging with itself as a bellowing singularity.

I long to whisper in colour and to scream in hues.

To activate my sonar self that feels the chatter of vibratory symphonies dancing between any two forms.

I want to converse with the ancient voice of this world.

To speak with the one whose name is existence.

In a dialect that is sourced within my body and spoken as a circle inside my unschooled heart.