By Andrew R. Duckworth
Something tells me my first taste was raspberry,
Maybe some false echo in my mind,
But I remember light.
Yes, there was light there,
Light pouring in from large windows
Into a large, mostly white room
With rows of empty pews,
And some sort of music.
A chorus of humming.
Some sort of holy melody.
Sun burst over the clouds,
Sending rays piercing through everything.
A rising glow on everything.
That was first,
The first that I can remember.
Where was I?
God only knows now.
Perhaps, I was in deep places of my mind,
Before my mind’s imaginings were tainted
By society’s worst devices.