A Messenger

A horse waited outside my door.

I asked nothing, I rode it, and we moved on.

It was black in the beginning,

but white became along.

Did it do the color-change or that’s what I saw?

It was my means of transportation the whole morning.

No one noticed; they were distracted.

We were talking while moving;

it felt natural, no need to prove it.

I’m not insane — but who admits insanity?—

Rationalism isn’t a panacea,

and it can co-exist with en-visioning.

So, the wind made our hair move carefree,

like kids who play without caring

about how they look

or if they’ll get their clothes dirty.

Physical appearance isn’t everything.

I don’t live anymore for image-making.

At some point, I saw a high obstacle.

The horse stopped; it followed my mind’s trap.

“You can”, it said, “if you believe it”.

“You also can’t, if that’s what you think”.

I examined the data using my thinking,

after detecting and putting on the “table” my feelings.

Then, I asked my intuition and my senses

and I concluded there weren’t any fences.

The horse automatically started moving again.

We passed the illusory “hurricane”.

It left me at home late in the afternoon,

having proved what was to be understood.

I said “goodbye” without sensing separation.

A messenger can leave, but the message stays as a sensation.

What I believe is what forms the world

‘cause my interpretations are projected in front of

my eyes that are not just two.

I perceive the real, expanded me,

as I try to use all my “tools”.

***

Anthi Psomiadou — CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 International : Credit must be given to the creator/ Only noncommercial uses of the work are permitted/ No derivatives