Trance Ends

First is unease,

Knowing without words.

Ordinary tasks

Accentuate the feeling off.

Time slows or fluxes,

Demanding presence.

Attention drawn to

The spaces between.

With bursts of resistance,

Or waves of sadness.

An inward climb up,

Trying to awaken.

Sensing others to be

Slightly unreal.

And leaning into

Synchronicities.

The inner critic quiet,

Nothing to add.

_____

When the collective

Trance Ends, 

Like a point of expansion,

On a cosmic balloon.

Harsh realizations can be

Easier to digest.

Taking the next logical step,

Is sense making.

Letting our hands loosen,

Their grip on the wheel.

At first, we must

Steady ourselves inside.

Things will look different

From now on.

Join me in this circle,

I will listen to what you see.

Maybe we can

Figure it out together.