My eyes opened, <br />And I was in a cemented cube. <br />Filled with materials that had no life. <br />I tried speaking to each surface, <br />To each curve, to each angle… <br />But there was no possible communication. <br />No exchange of energy… <br />Nothing. <br />Only the simple image, <br />That was easily distinguished in my mind. <br />Easily bendable, easily distorted. <br />The relationship between I, <br />And the inside of this cube… <br />…Was a superficial one. <br />It taught me nothing valuable, <br />Since the objects seemed to find themselves <br />To be of enough value. <br />This made me joyless and lonesome. <br />I did not find any meaning inside <br />The cube. <br />So I carried my body out of it. <br />And life rushed into me. <br />My senses now had purpose. <br />My body became the object… <br />The tangible force, <br />Which carries the light in me. <br />This light of one light. <br />Single energy, <br />That inhabits all that is living. <br />It was in that moment, <br />That I began to live.<br /><br />Erica Borges<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dream-403/
