Tap, tap, tap, tap…
There are too many meanings and
It. Is. Difficult.
to see where I’m going when synapses fire like pebbles on glass.

Tap, tap, tap, tap…
The words keep coming
Into the silence of solitude.
When the path goes into the undergrowth,
Who is to say where it leads?

All on.
All off.
All on.
All off.
Never. Enough. Time.
When the mind speaks,
Who is to tell us to listen?

Will you go down with me into the bracken?
Will you go up with me into the night?
Will you go through with me into the places where footsteps are silent like water on ice?

Into the loam I will burrow with you.
Under the rock and the mud we will stay,
‘Til the sparks fly lighting our path to the surface.

Tap, tap, tap, tap…
Nothing will be as it was.
When the cells link,
All understanding is there.


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