An infinite field
Feels the same at each point
It’s flat end to end
The directions conjoined
The weather is perfect
To sit in one spot
And be everywhere
Though it feels like you’re not
A Poetic Dive into the Creative Unconscious
An infinite field
Feels the same at each point
It’s flat end to end
The directions conjoined
The weather is perfect
To sit in one spot
And be everywhere
Though it feels like you’re not