Huddled, arms wrapped around skeleton bones.
Cold cornered, lost to the vast emptiness.
There was nothing.
There was the void, the body, the mind.
The disease, the gnawing, shivering flesh.
There was knowing, the need to get out.
So I climbed.
From some place deep inside, down in the cavern
which was myself.
The vessel, weak and scarred.
Wracked with cracked memories, stringing together beads of light.
Like axons, stretching blind to find home.
Clawing around the empty space, searching for the sign
telling them ‘drop anchor here!’- you have arrived.
All that travel, the distance trekked.
Empty arms reaching out, moving inch by inch by inch by inch
until I saw the light.
The fantastic blast, locking in all sensation, all sound and touch.
Tasting the void and becoming wrapped within,
melting out, directionless.
All sense of self; no sense of self.
The development, without time
yet looking back upon every image, every filtered picture, the clouded memory
like a snapshot in time.
Seeing with this mind that is both mine yet not mine alone,
this matter which holds these samskaras, imprints of these cells I used to carry.
Cradled by the now, embracing each breath,
watching silently the invisible reflection of huddled arms, wrapped round cold bones.
Observing with a quiet smile the body that used to be.