Mirrored Reality: Overlaid Atop Another Day

Photo by 卡晨 on Unsplash

Mirrored Reality

overlaid atop another day

It was mid-morning of another day, six patients already passing this way
steady flow, broken down, Rona was speaking more fear spitting chaos hard to know.
Then it happened out of the left-field, caught in a daze, briefly, life’s purpose unconcealed
visionary, recessionary thoughts no longer abiding in life’s given dysentery.

Climbing to the top of the highest building, downtown place-setting bank one ascending
further and further skyward bound eagles’ existential persistence humans connecting stars abound.
Climbing to the favored fringe of possibility, sitting upon glories edged nobility,
tempered eyes glassed-over, once passive voice is written word personal trover.

Heart surrendering sacred song, birds, Dragon, ancient mother’s sarong,
wrapped up in heavenly thoughts, doves releasing spirit imparting like a boss.
Goose-bumps traveling head to toe, forgetting briefly I ought to go,
instant gratitude, fortitude reciprocating, wholly and holy participating.

Mirrored reality shattering what was, given before intrinsic faux pas,
thus mimicking empath, laying on a bed of ‘their’ wrath.
Transfigured and muted tongue, death and dying of the day of dung,
heavy heart imitating dense energies the time being, letting go another fleeing, also decreeing.

~ Ani Po


Photo by Emerson Lima on Unsplash

This mirrored reality gave birth this past week as I was attending to the day’s normal requests, pain and suffering, chaos and disorderly behavior, lost and confused, in the wake of quarantining for an entire year. Now dealing with coworkers’ brokenness, suffering from continuous blood-letting songs of fear and misery, left crying out discretely to the Universe for guidance.

Out of options, no longer able to keep the peace, fleeing persons running from sacred fires strength and nobility, full submission, at the mercy of unknowing what may come of this day.

There in the control room with monitors observing treatment rooms’ guest, it happened, overlaid realities of what will be given unto thee. A glimpse of an inner-warrior climbing the highest of buildings in downtown Milwaukee, placing him or herself atop a ledge overlooking the city, region, worldly gaze extension.

Holding space while listening to the sacred tune, feeling a new song embodying, encompassing, and passing vicariously through shape-shifting inspirited reality, inner-warrior knowing what to do, it is done. Cracking of the ribs, heart expansive ways, opening flesh, vulnerable and naked embodied universal truth, love flowing with healing winds, doves release from the chest, hearts’ sacred song, healing self-doubt, collective scarring of sacred truths, expanding further, from the control room to cosmic sanctorium.


Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and more importantly the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash

Seeking Voice of Another

Seeking Voice of Another
disappearing into a little different

Seeking out a new voice through which these words travel,
unbeknownst great attachment to whom I’ve become,
with predictable chaos hidden within plain sight,
transfixed reality sharpening gaze piercing eyes,
awkwardly staring off into space,
in hopes of becoming invisible,
disappearing into the cosmic masterpiece,
amidst the quantum-time paralleled universe.

Yes, wanting to disappear,
briefly and annotating others skillset quill-like mastery,
absented comparison, adoration, and or loathing,
merely observing a thousand many faces of the same author,
many pens, keyboards affixed phalangeal tapping in rhythmic tones,
backward mirror of time following rules, not this personas forte,
peeking at another’s desktop, writings upon their page
thousand many faces of the same great author.

Oh, how my heart aches, searching for another voice,
comforting lounge pants mirrored silken cloth losing my religion,
confessing to the birds not giving a damn but to their scavenging ways
of knowing when their world is filled to the rim of ‘all there is,’
singing their favorite tune sending out invitations for all
to give witnessing voice additional heart-warming sounds
of sacred songs carrying wings of flight to far-off lands,
returning once again at childhood’s end.

Pain and misery wanting to be heard,
shuffling back to the end of the line,
giving pause to what was before,
hearing words foreign to auditory self-inflicting,
hallucinating or real uncertainties remaining true
to given words, free-flowing spirit ought not to speak,
awe-inspiring glance within open expanse,
humbled acceptance in hopes of meeting the criteria.

Still looking
for a new voice,
checking outside
under the rocks,
behind buckthorn’s naked flesh
out of orbit,
out of time,
out of space.

~ Ani Po

_ _ _

Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and more importantly the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash