Degrees of Being

Inside existence itself.
On mundane being begun,
Warm cerulean with whispers of rose. Framed.

Flocky, glowing feathers of ice.
Batik scrim flutters with breeze.

Accompanying rumbling,
Palpable grays mix at street level, parenthesized in arcing light,
Dodging blurs.

In the face of unseen boundaries, distant saffron echoes,
Penetrating nothing.

On passing, milky dryness patiently plays a silent eruption of ochre,
to veridian,
to purple.

Coolness conspires with shady greens, obscured without light.
Pace falls in degrees.

Opposites punctuate ethereal cover,
Masking horizons.
Be-ing reaches without touch

Toward time.
The colorless now flows on without wish. Until again.