LINES ON A LADY SUSPENDED IN A FLOATATION TANK

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LINES ON A LADY SUSPENDED IN A FLOATATION TANK

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How prone she lies, her horizontal hair
A dark and densely-spreading cloud upon
The constant water of the silent tank.
Her limbs are soft-supported in a rare
And silken buoyancy, still, like a swan
Becalmed in drowsy lake. All stress has sank,

To leave her with a clear receptive brain
Divorced from trivial stimuli, and free
To probe the richer promptings from within.

What cerebral adventures, with their train
Of vivid episodes now strive to be
The most significant, and thereby win
Her prime attention through a trance-like power
Displayed in panoply of varied thought
Which clamours in imaginative force?

These waking dreams reveal an opened door
To new dimensions of a different sort
From what she finds when sleeping takes its course.

~ Stanley ~
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