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The Ethereal Ascent

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  The Ethereal Ascent The air in the room is violently still, creating a heavy pressure. She has long stopped looking at the clock, realising that time here is not a sequence but a weight. The waiting room has fractured; the mundane reality of plastic chairs and linoleum flooring splinters into a jagged, stained-glass fever dream. High-pitched frequencies of burning red and sickly blues vibrate as if hardened walls, echoing the frantic noise of a mind that has run out of distractions. Every sharp edge of colour feels like a spiritual siege, a sensory reminder that her momentum has been forcibly halted. There is no use in pacing. There is no use in resisting the authoritative hand of the "in-between." To survive this stall, she must stop fighting the current and become part of the stagnant water. She looks out, as if just awakened, and does the only thing left to recollect. She breathes. She waits. She waits for the shards to align once more. Be Creative and Innovative wit...
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Travel Lake Bennett

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It only takes the slightest breeze.
After each sunset.
Before the problems of the day are resolved.

The bludgeoned crawl out.
To reclaim some dignity.
And some semblance of affinity with living.
And their efficacy to feel beautiful.

The opportunity to refract and diverge with their whispers.
If you want to listen to them.


3am in the morning.
When the void sets in.
And all daily grinds transpire.
Stone cold awake.

Then night allows your creativity.
The force denied brilliant struggle.
By stripping away your defenses.

You wake up and feel the affinity.
The moon, stars, and clouds.
Listen to your reptilian cycle.
Before the window closes.
And you have forgotten the introspection.




Quiet conversations.
On whatever breeze chances by.
No longer demanding hardened options.
Or decisive actions.

Just being aware of stillness.
As an uncomplicated opportunity.
When elsewhere else has none.
Claim this moment.
To be within yourself.




Translucent memories.
Whispering for your return.
To childhood when nothing was an option.
Without the graveyard of divisive actions.

Drifting through the stillness.
Lulled.
Without care.
Engrossed at the moment.
As a cloud appears.
And without your permission.
Transfixes your amazement.




Lake Bennett  Water Cloud Branch 
Full Moon Reflections

When the moon finally breaks through.
And the restless breeze wanders between.
Past hatreds and future promises.
And the decisions of others who cut me down.

I just cannot stop.
And I fight with myself for my life.
Knowing others fight harder.
Never to gain even.
But I never wanted to march.
But I did.




When my thoughts don't realize.
I become restless.
I wander between what could have been.
My hatreds and false starts.
And all decisions I could never make.

My sky dreaming.
My glass ceilings.
I as the consumer.
Stoked by the genius.
Those who know better for me.
And the wasted life of never meeting promises.
But still, I follow.







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