Super Perfundo, on the Early Eve of Your Day.

by waxnwings

As the flakes came free, not cold,
but card-like shards, synthetic,
Old and archaic relics removed
without force,
I was awoken
(If but for a single lid): This actually happened.

Then came: “Super Perfundo”
Not spoken – inspired,
Words cryptic not for their meaning but
for their image,
their taste,
their texture.

This is not sense of the rational
This is sense of the experience

“Be bathed, drenched, overflow with inspiration,
be imbued: Super Perfundo.
This is the recognition of our own experience.”

“But just as most know not the dream
Until they wake,
Inspiration is swallowed in moments –
endless moments –
Unrecognised and lost in ‘waking’
On the early eve of your day.”