Removing me from myself I fly high
falling into the mists I lose myself
there in the twisted plane, the sites grow kinked
images cascade in wondrous delight
as the well of life issues forth
hold well, this great sight that catches me
and bring me to the place of stillness
seeking the hunt, catching the fray
burrowing into the mound of breath
I see it . . . I know it
there I pursue, not knowing the way
(This unrhymed descriptive reflection refers to feelings I often have during contemplation.)