Philosophy

In humans,

philosophy is born

and blooms with retention,

bathed in an electricity

of the mind.

This lives as a life

suited within an enclosure

of experience

and under the influence

of bodily chemistry.

Eventually this body,

housing the philosophy

of choice, ages and dies.

But the philosophy does not,

it departs dressed

in the travel wardrobe

of spirit

to ride the seven seas

beyond the seven senses

of human endeavor.

Philosophy allows for

a forbiddenness to live

unkempt, unclear, unconfined,

For irrational truth

to have a life

carried from within,

nurtured by attention given

and a curiosity

blessed with innocence

yet defined

by order and control.

Philosophy is a kind

of Candida of being

that gives spirit a window

of opportunity

to embrace beyond proof

and possibly beyond display.

Belief maybe a phantom limb

of assistance.

A greater whole is eating away

at life as limitation.

Cells are given a consciousness

to return to the universe

when human debt is done.

Philosophy is a label from afar.

It is generally spoken

from the outside looking in.

It suggests a vitality

beyond measure.

It is working the self

beyond its means.

Philosophy is a French kiss

of mindfulness

by setting language aside,

where by all accounts

are irrelevant

as spoken

and electric as lived.

It is an ocean unnamable

and without surface to sail.

You either swim the flow

or drown treading in resistance

to what is for oneself.

It is not summation

but a drawnness imploring

more of a conscious connection

to be made

as expression of being.

Go with it

as long as you do not name it

your philosophy lives you . . .