We all, at times, travel in the secret society
of underground rivers of otherwise connectedness.
Why, we are all so far far away and remote,
and yet get that someone is dedicated to be that you,
the everso hum of that particular you.
We, are of an inner dialogue
that cannot be said out loud.
When put into actual words,
there is a barren-ness without the accompaniment
of our intimate environmental sooth
or the levity of our beings,
that is field sharing in the exquisiteness of our sameness.
I am a respite to you that goes without saying.
I know and you know
but nobody in our immediate worlds would even suspect
the inwardness or the soul-depth with which
we have these inward exchanges.
Yes, it is amazing that we keep on keeping on.
Maybe it is a riddle to be answered at some point
in the future of our lives in do time.
I feel the ooze of us,
even though there can be no admittance.
I feel like a salt lick to serve you
and am comfortable in doing so.
Why it is like this, I do not know nor question
but accept as dynamically rich
and worthy of our co-participation.
Take a moment and lean up against me as you.
There is a you that I hold for you to realize
from within yourself as well as for me, in a likewise.
There is joy when the tuning forks of this nature respond, whoever initiates in the ethers of conscious life.
Our magma of being may never truly surface but is,
in all ways, a blessed upheaval
in the churn of our beings,
in otherwise connectedness,
sacredly in motion . . .