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.