It was like a new lifetime
after a spent lifetime,
he felt;
like a new birth
following death,
he thought.
The white-clad nurses,
white sheets and white walls
and other white things
merged and rolled out
like a curtain, a screen
a veil of mist
to the slowly opening eyes
of awakening consciousness.
And all the sounds,
within and without the ward
crashed like an ocean
a thunderstorm
and in bits and pieces
as single note and the Holy Ohm
the music of the conscious
he began to hear.
After countless aeons,
time,
frozen and thick,
caught the warmth
of slowly opening eye-light
began to flow
by and by.
And recollection permeated eyelid
unfolded like a series of stills
upon the white eye screen.
