the wiser for it 7/27/18

come to treasure a worth 

that has no grasp for belief,

figure a thought 

that has no residence for landing,

a personal wealth 

without perspective or scale,

physical embrace 

without surface to feel for touch,

as if a sense that doesn’t register 

as evidence of proof.

find a series of words 

that have no vowels for it to sound,

a sense of containment 

that has no exterior in surround,

a particular essence that exists 

as resoundingly unidentified,

a streaming of sorts 

that defies any sense of motion as account,

a private testament 

that is mountainously steeped in silence,

know of a moniker 

that endures ridiculing itself, 

as a way of life,

have at an in-breath 

that circles the planet in its constancy,

be aware of a method of duly-noteds 

that have existence as a mockery,

where time is the after-thought 

of a flock of circling hesitancies, 

feed on the ridiculous 

in mountainous proportions ever-advancing.

see an adventure 

with steadfast as its working premise, 

where timid possums on psychedelics 

are facing off in stare-downs,

sloths, on speed, racing snails, jointly, 

in their shared minds’ eyes, 

breezes forged from the earnest effort 

of a multitude of leaves,

where crayons go, in their heart of hearts 

for their last main squeeze,

and how string or rope unwinds 

from their last tether or bind.

know what serration realizes 

beyond its last cutting action,

when dirt is finally resting, 

heavenly at home,

when all of fabric has no place else to layer 

as for show,

be before wheel 

had ever surrendered to purpose,

before dips and dodges 

had any sense of motion to their life,

where all of trees-diversity appears 

as the whisper-one root,

and speaking, is an ocean 

without the need of confessionals,

as with mirrors 

that never have faced redundancy,

or where blood has never experienced 

any inadvertent exposures

and tedium never needed 

a resting places of residence

as well as details that were never referred to 

as a bother.

go there, 

where no location has ever been visited before.

be the chrysalis of a fresh idea, 

is about to happen.

and then give it all away 

to be essence from the heart.

come to know of nothing 

as superlative

yet that no measure of this 

is ever concluded.

where to only wisdom 

is isness

and yet, 

no one is the wiser for it . . .