The Hoverer
by Ken Goodman
Walking through the city so
unmindful of my legs—
The Hoverer stays motionless no matter
where I go, borderless GodSky
also deLighting [this] brainbow.
How long has it hovered unstuck to egoity,
immune to post & pre, everybody’s
personal egoless deity;
why try to look & see? ‘Tween the temples it’s aware
unseen/beholdingly, never caught in neural net
like some blood juicy fly…
exodusted from the grip of
pharaoh-ego I.
Which is ‘more’ The Hoverer, now or eternity?
The Hoverer embraces both uninterruptedly:
mated like a mirror shows shit & reflects stainlessly,
never clinging to a thought of
‘understand thought-free.’
Dawn-fresh horizon-free!
I’d reply but secret mantra in-hears silently.
Ken Goodman mates ecstatic meditation & poetry creation in Cleveland, Ohio.