The lines on my palm, scored deep and dark
Remind me how far I’ve wandered off my path.
Life happened in the folds and creases
Of my own hands, of my own doing.
And I followed the flutter of butterfly wings
Exiled for so long from familiar things.
And life happened, as I felt it slipping away
The earth below tilted, in kaleidoscope days.
Every shift colored the skies in myriad hues
Life happened, as I was lost in psychedelic muse.
The highs as surreal as the splintered hell
The ground rushing up to meet my free fall
And life happened, death happened and life again
Resurrection anew, reincarnation even.
I wander the paths in the lines of my hand
The past, the present, the future entwined.
No ends, no beginnings, just infinite loops,
As I watch my self, my self watches too.
-alka
Nov2014