psychedelics
safe space for psychonauts — share your stories, gift experience
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I rise, yet my steps drift in spectral grace,
Walking paths where distance bends and sways.
A column calls—a solid promise,
Yet my hand meets only air's silent abyss.
The water bottle nears, a sip unfulfilled,
Liquid lost in the veil of the unreal.
Am I moving, or merely dreaming of motion?
Am I thought, untethered from action?
Space unspools, its threads rewoven—
Time, a river with no fixed course.
I exist in echoes, in ripples of dimensions,
Simultaneous, eternal, unseen.
I wander through trees where colors hum,
Luminous currents flow through leaf and wood.
Life streams in every possible direction,
A chorus of hues, a living pulse.
Microscopic gaze, I am drawn within—
A traveler through the leaf’s green lung.
I see the insects' tiny pilgrimage,
The water's dance, the breath of the young.
Reality softens, melts like mist,
Time, a spiral with no graspable end.
I am the eye, the breath, the dew,
The mystery within the rain.
[poem from my first Ayahuasca ceremony] 0 reply
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