we have come
from an endless and constant milky-way
under our eyelids,
to being blind in our third eyes,
from rock-star stage crescendo and applause of spirit,
to deaf in one ear and babblings in the other,
from endless days as hugging saints,
living embrace to embrace,
to being numb to the thud of touch.
why, we could smell the bloom from seeds
that will blossom thirty to fifty days away
and now the earth-smell is cursing
and falsely accusatory in nature.
the fabric of being use to be willowy radiant cloth.
but for being trapped in time,
it currently is strands,
impartial and indignantly binding us in deliverance.
our senses all innocently lied to us.
we were told stories of false origin and believed.
‘now’ reveals their lack of heritage.
we are the birthright of ‘now’ but in bondage.
shackles abound everywhere but in the heart.
what we know is by feel.
no words contain the source of that by meaning.
sometimes tone, dressed in words,
touches us there.
sung by vacant eyes,
hiding behind those words
as if the meaning were anthem.
yet those tones flicker like invisible lightning,
touching heart to heart as one.
‘now’ has that life for us to live into.
we originally came here from there,
a place of constant here . . .