mind, like an onion
growing layer upon layer
each wanting to be peeled
explored
granted a reality
a wish to be more
anything transcending the layers
layers growing inside outward
each subsequent one larger
yet all the same, just layers
ripples on the mind’s surface water
curved lines with no beginning or end
no independent existence
never free of all else
in the end
just swirling circles
atop formless prima materia
seeking to become more
than an onion
in the alchemist’s flask
Note: Toss an onion into an alchemist’s flask and this is what you get. What do you get?
Poetic Alchemist 