Inverse Dementia

If demise,
why not a disease
like Inverse Dementia?
Imagine: your thoughts,
imperceptibly at first,
a shuffle-step quicker,
your mind, somehow,
progressively lighter,
as though someone is going from room to room turning on lights,

and everywhere shadows are scattering,
and everywhere memories are leaping,
names, scenes, images, lists,
rapid-fire flashes of original associations,
ripe and ready, hanging like apricots
in those gardens at Babylon;

and now the roof evanesces in a luminous rain,
and the ceiling is carried off by swallows,
and the walls become rivers in fields
upon fields of unfolding horizons
under a wheeling multi-verse
of skies within skies, 
quickening, quickening,

until, what kills you,
is no suffocating slip into black,
but an explosion of perception,
which carries you
wholly prepared
into the Mystery.