'One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star'- Nietzsche
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Spiritual pieces

Under a red and rolling sky

as haunted as a Rorschach blot

Energy finds the middle eye

and gleans the epiphanal polyglot.

Now rose, now lavender and gold,

the clouds combust and burn away

shimmering light bursts through: behold —

the awakening we call day.

O, this grey pulpy mass of brain

like a recalcitrant ghost

ratlles the mental window pane

where dull memory stands engrossed.

Yet is shaken from sleep again 

as the Sun rises like the blessed host

and gives the middle eye a toast.

  • John Kendall Hawkins