I pretend you were the People’s meditation, a reoccurring, scheduled suspension of self, sound and concern, a distillation of of each fleeting instant, a purposeful reduction of the senses in order to reach the present moment, inner travels and revelations, reconstructions of the heavens, a glimpse of paradise lost extended for minutes, hours, in the smoke haze and through it, in the dark, amongst strangers, inside the fluttering light and nowhere. |