My eyes opened,
And I was in a cemented cube.
Filled with materials that had no life.
I tried speaking to each surface,
To each curve, to each angle…
But there was no possible communication.
No exchange of energy…
Nothing.
Only the simple image,
That was easily distinguished in my mind.
Easily bendable, easily distorted.
The relationship between I,
And the inside of this cube…
…Was a superficial one.
It taught me nothing valuable,
Since the objects seemed to find themselves
To be of enough value.
This made me joyless and lonesome.
I did not find any meaning inside
The cube.
So I carried my body out of it.
And life rushed into me.
My senses now had purpose.
My body became the object…
The tangible force,
Which carries the light in me.
This light of one light.
Single energy,
That inhabits all that is living.
It was in that moment,
That I began to live.
Erica Borges
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dream-403/
