GOING DOWN, TO THE CENTER OF THE EARTH
THERE’S A HARD LIGHT, TO THE MINERALS THAT
CRACKLE AND COMPRESS, CRYSTALLIZE IN THE DREAM
I was dreaming about that:
be in the center of the earth
and see what vista you can see
and find what you shall find
It was less to visioning and more about the fastness of the nestling — nurtured there in the center of the earth. It was of the taste of iron, that sharpening glint of nickel, bronze, stone — the palette, tongued, of steel. It was about the scent of crushed diamonds. It was of the sound of crackling compression, glass — silicas, shifting in the stress. And sight – sensed in the black heat.
But in all, it formed the music of the inner sphere and the scent of earth and world making, the touch of hard embracement, taste of red blood iron and the dream of balance — upside down or not, with all the senses swarming in the synaesthesia of a molten cauldron of imagining. Pulsing, in the center of the earth.
Still, light crept, shone through.
And I saw more in the journey, stone on stone, step on step. Being there, in the center of the earth.
t | vancouver, b.c.
EXPLORING BRAND DREAMS