Sloughed Decisions 

I don’t need any
god, already don’t
know my way:

it isn’t perfect
as it isn’t. I’ve felt
no longer. Wondered,

Did I even ever
become? Am I?
Experiencing only

oneself lures One,
self. The well pales
the bucket and the pail

wells the abyss. Deep within
each breath, symphonic celebrations
tune potential, feed on emoting

harmonies. My childhood
toy snake rips through
despair. I feel

the beat of its bereaved
companion, hope he’s safe
now. Wind

caresses stalk from stem. Its drag,
a grief borne grasping
gasp, a moment of near

suspension. Flow
bears the promise
of perishing. Faithfully liminal,

decisively harmonious, some
leaves cling, others
cleave:  unimagined

reverence inspires.
Autumnal gloam billows
ethereal fire, a visiting

crow, its greeting I
become. Petioles whisper
peristaltic waves, and hissing

harmonies within
the shadows of wonder
recognize the dreaming

eyes of the Universe.

Jace Langone
Autumn 2024

“Into the eye of the beast, the eye of Ouroboros”

Expressive art supportive to my initiation as a (co)lead facilitator at Dreamshadow® Transpersonal Breathwork workshops within the context of grieving my mother and celebrating my semicentennial birthday.

Jace Langone
Spring 2024