At this point,
we all are liquid constituents
in puddles and pools,
or lakes and seas.
We are all droplets in action.
Few of us are drops
in a desert newly as dew.
We have our pace
and time in the sun of life.
The skies, by this metaphor,
although beckoning,
will also vitally play
in the movement of all our lives.
But we are empathy as viscosity,
waiting for worthy cause,
to give us the stream of it
as rivers into the human ocean.
It is there that we become
as the salt of the earth.
It is there the cycle of oneness
expresses our fluid fullness
in its formalist of fashion.
It is there
we have evaporative means
more than droplets of identity.
We are of deeper cycles
from there,
revitalized and returned.
We are an embodiment
of shared thought and feelings.
We are, from there
expressing and nurturing as one.
It is there
where chemical hydrogen
is metaphorical humanism.
However we wear the disguises,
the D.N.A. is adaptive
and integrative as our means.
For any lesser cause
of regional or local
and we become rain.
And in doing so,
a cumbersome isolation of longing,
wanting to get back
and to give back,
is wanting to live,
back to a oneness of means.
To identify with anything less,
we are states of unconsciousness,
where gravity is the prayer,
sky is the assistance of angels
and sunlight as the breath needed,
bring us cyclically
eventual love-viscosity deliverance.
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