chasing down the wealth of being
beyond the menu of circumstance
with experience being
so nuance conversational.
it's a wonder
when internally talking to oneself about it.
realized happenstance is so biased
in its reports
and attempts at acknowledgment.
it is hard to penetrate to deeper topics
that are not personally stolen
by experiential account.
where all the wealth of language
can still feel so superficial
in its import and calling.
so when does an inner voice
have a tone of dignity
beyond the summations of reasoning?
when does the self,
beyond obvious occurrences,
get to speak up in these midsts.
and when, in the spectrum
of internal listening,
do these tonal chords struck,
that speak of spirit,
get to even more deeply convey of soul,
to where the bloom
of understanding falls away
and a recognition of self, outside of time,
becomes the mirror of destiny,
reflected back?
for what is so important
that one would take on
the wardrobe of personage
and still feel deeply drawn
to unravel the mysteries of a self
as a facet of the collective,
illusively embolden and embodied?
and yet the essence of love
pours and permeates,
to where one is monumental liquidity,
that is ever forthcoming
through the ever-change of every disguise.
even though,
experience advances the narrative
as false-scripture
yet we are soul-filled by presence,
whereby drawnness absorbs
all of these disguises
presented and illogically offered
in the tea ceremony known as time
and the space ceremony known
as sacred spirit,
where nothing can devour
the oneness coming forth,
where the brilliance of being is served
under lifetimes of reality-glass
as the feast of self
yet offering flavors
beyond sensory range or recognition.
for we are all the pursuit
of quintessential tastes,
wanting essence to be
the nutritional realized
as consummate vibrational,
the purest of energy,
and oneness actualized
as self-faceted
and yet reality-present . . .
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