Fanciful Imaginings…

In the beginning of light within the dark and dryness in the moisture,
Four cougars craved solace and while crouching on lily pads
They suddenly were transformed into lotuses,
Which many deities and their devotees noticed.

Millennia later, they found themselves reified in cults as a posture,
Which spread over tropical zones and became fads
They realized then that they were the only ones
Who knew what lotuses really were…

And, accordingly, they sent a message to some
And me who seemed to not hear
And continued instead to reify lotuses,
Until one day a radiant lotus dared speech practice…

I heard a soliloquy seductively whispered from a Goddess.
She was not a cougar, and so I wondered…
A roar sounded primordial colors into existence
And the space that wound in that place fondled
A creature into a plant again and I witnessed happenstance.

‘Tree, come to me,’ She whispers…
Whoever heard absurder a perjure of sanity?
In the shadows, I observe, goosebumps and chills—the profanity!
Wheneven shelters wrestle and perspire…

Wait. A Shadow stretches to reach my heart.
And a heartbeat pumps of energy brainwaves impart.
How shadow reaches thought reveals to inspire
The telling of “whenever stories” of diverse characters,
Even trees’ slow Sahara sojourn provides witness!

No more do cougars and lotuses challenge
What once proved as truth for me for truth has no bearing
For in its telling doth truth become else
And when a goddess fills one spilling outward into all
What is shadow is light and all paradox seeming real…

--by Scott Michael Potter