A Prosepoem by Alex Spenser
The promise of a new page.
A new life beginning.
Promise of beauty and wonder and immaculate moments of time.
The continuation of life is the promise.
The dawning of a new day.
It is hope.
It is wonder.
It is possibility.
With each day, the opportunity of regeneration of mind, of body, of spirit.
The light, the energy from within are flowing from its source to the cells and the sinews of a body, creating in its wake a new body, a new mind, a new spirit.
I awaken everyday knowing of the possibility. The proof of regeneration is in the dust. The molecules of me filling the place I live, providing, as they are flung into the breeze, fodder for new life; the symbiosis that keeps us remaining, thriving on this planet.
Perhaps we have sisters and brothers on other lands, in other galaxies, and what if we find a bridge in time and space to our own quantum realities? What possibilities lie within those thoughts. The dreams of scientists made real, a flesh of existence where theory exists now.
These dreams of a mind persist in time and wonder.
Persist in beauty and kindness.
Persist in possibility and creation of moments – to moments – to moments.
Moments are my door; the subject I come back to again and again, searching for home and life and peace.
Each moment beautiful in its absolute complexity.
The elusive object of living each moment as it comes.
The drop of dew.
The embrace of a child.
Tears flowing down the face of laughter.
The moment is my carriage return, the way I begin, again and again.
The new creating from light and energy a life.
The sky. The clouds.
The wind: known only from feeling and reaction of the world around me.
To be the wind.
To have an effect.
To create beauty and wonder in minds.
Thoughts of peace – of peace – of peace.