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