I am
interestingly but peculiarly displaced.
I am
here but also someplace else.
I
have a body, sort of over there.
Not
spacey here but widely inclusive
with
a different set of incentives.
Everything
of the now
has a
feel of a movie review.
Human
footage is as if memories
but
ripe as happening now.
People
are a bleeding heart
penmanship
expressing.
Habits
have a recipe feel
as if
line-by-line.
Less
fabric and more space to being a person.
Celebration
is quietly on the move
through
every medium as awareness provides.
There
is an underground fire
with
overhead crystals, inwardly reflecting.
How
would I move towards an excellent day
without
the baggage of self-audience?
But
yes, there is no apparent moving towards.
Many
things ignite without meaning as kindling.
Wind
swept but not out of task.
Woke up
to it and in stillness it spread,
and in
glorious phases it unfolds
before
me from within.
Yet
woke up, somehow,
deeper
to the wonder, vast in the surmise,
embraced
by perception’s gifts.
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