Living with outwardly muted
yet incessant interior voices
of appraisal
while dodging
the stifling fumes
of self in constant summary,
are only harvested
nagging mental dialogues,
prided as if
experience was the chosen crop
and presumed as if
fall was the season of both harvest
and redemption.
These two combine
for a false assumption . . .
that the beauty of effort
is a future of release.
This is all
a self-induced assignment
of imposition
yet self-love
is without mindful consideration.
Spirit will embrace the disguise
as pageantry of being.
The energetic truth
does not force for itself.
All roads of expression
will yield as a consciousness.
No construction
outside of the now
sustains blessedness.
This noticing is incidental
and non-essential.
Being is unavoidable.
The math
is always complimentary.
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