A Flower Called Nowhere
Earth, 114 million years ago:
The first flower appears on the planet.
Earth, 27 years ago:
I appear on the planet.
Isn’t it insane that flowers bloom?
That a human is born?
Humans contain breath, blood, bones,
pixels, glitches, boundaries.
A pulse.
Where the hell
do flowers and humans come from
and is it the same place?
I am not sure if my purpose has value or not.
So I am just trying to do to my life
what the sun and rain have done to flowers
for 114 million years.
My heart is a flower
making the most of its situation.
My heart’s mantra is
‘riot on flower mountain.’
I want to be held like a flower
holds a rain drop.
Holding the sun
in eye contact.
I want to know the width of my pulse
and if it is sunny there
or what?
I want a lipstick made from
the sex organs of flowers.
Where You Came From
Your feet kiss the earth when you walk.
You cannot receive
what you don't give.
Frolic through the desert of your mind.
There are tiny, exotic birds living
in each one of your fingers.
Think about your favorite fruit
and how it makes you feel.
Everything you are going to be, you already are.
Listen to the sound behind sound.
There is a waterfall of old patterns
falling out from you.
Imagine that your eyes are kissing
everything around you.
Can you perceive beyond what you see?
Try to love the part of you that makes you ugly. You have thoughts, but you are not
your thoughts.
You do not have knowledge.
You are knowledge.
Turn your passion into patience.
You can be simultaneously
liberated and imprisoned
by a circumstance.
Imagine your mind
is a myriad
of crystalline forests.
To perceive is to understand
and to understand is to experience.
Listen to sound with every pore of your body.
Focus your energy on
things that make
your heart feel big.
You are rain forests dreaming
about desert sands and desert sands
dreaming about lush flowers.
Imagine you are breathing
in and out of your ears.
Your skin is one big fucking petal.
Your body is a vessel
for breath and light to move through.
Count the flames in the heart of the sun.
You came from everywhere and
were created from nothing.
You came from nowhere
and were created from everything.
You came from everywhere and
were created from everything.
You came from nowhere
and were created from nothing.
Ashley Opheim is a Montreal-based writer, editor and publisher. She is the founder and managing editor of Metatron. Her work has been published in LESTE, Cosmonauts Avenue, Shabby Doll House, Electric Cereal, HTMLGIANT and elsewhere. She tweets @hologramrainbow.