feeling grounded

every conclusion made is a painted desert

as the art of the fading 

memorialized into the valley 

where judgment comes to reside.

as the river of being passes 

in the carve of self-consciousness,

the livingness sculpts 

by its overall passage that defines.

belief is the topography 

we all live within.

hard to take flight 

when these private canyons of familiarity

have become safe-keep as sanctuary.

even when the freshness of rain 

falls down into the core of us,

eroding the stature of habit 

is barely touched.

ever so the breezes that make sense 

find a way into passing thoughts.

life becomes the mapping.

and, you are here, is the self of location.

why to have self-consciousness as landscape

as if to make ourselves feel grounded,

is a mystery 

we have yet to resolve . . .