silence in spokenness

learning from the grandness,

in a conversation of silence,

having no interruptions,

where topics just appear,

as self, 

from much inward spokenness.

yet, this does not feel like a monologue.

subject matter always has theme melody.

can't argue with the tonals of delivery, either.

it's like walking in a meadow,

but cannot feel my feet for the ground.

my thoughtful has become an atmosphere.

topics have aromas, 

that also have flavors.

it seems I pick the fruit

yet reflectingly, 

respect the tree.

some much of wind 

travels in a shared silence. 

eventually, I leave the audience perspective

and once again,

silence in spokenness, 

and I become, 

within myself . . .

can I have my attention

what attention asks of itself is,

wanting want,

being be,

and doing do,

as the what, the who and the how.

is this mindfulness having residence,

as existence, function and historied?

well then,

is this the life of an experience junkie,

writer, reader and audience as one?

take my words, 

from the ink my mind.

take my eyes, 

from the sight of the page.

and take my ears, 

from the room of my listening.

is my attention then,

just a form of distraction?

my mindfulness has emotional yearnings 

to leave my cognitive home . . .

at the highest

at the highest frequency end of titillation 

is the onset of bottom-line emersion.

yet at the highest frequency end of experiences

is the onset for the bottom line of beingness. 

for at the highest frequency end of symbology

is the onset basis of miracle-manifest.

and at the highest frequency end of doing

is the onset basis of the presence of being.

at the highest frequency end of awareness

is the baseline onset of the entire cosmos.

and at the highest frequency end of cosmos

is the onset of the baseline of oneness . . .

if only to experience essence

is essence ever evidential?

essence is never less than its presence.

evidentials are cue techniques of claimed reception

within our limited sensory.

even our ultra-sensory range

only gives indications or inferences, 

alluding to what vacantly appears.

we are always there, but not there.

we are of the want for experience of there,

but experience is only an interpretative means.

experience does not take us there.

experience makes us visitors in a foreign land,

where we take our versions back home with us,

where we come to claim, having been there,

but are not of that which is there.

we are of ourselves essence,

but only presently conscious in that regard.

we can exude an essence,

but not be the consciousness of its presence.

we can have vibes and auras and presence,

but they travel as us, through us, 

not easily as the consciousness of us.

essence dwells but not as a projective means.

we are the escort, at best, for what deeply is ongoing.

we can be supportive, custodial, representative thereof,

but essence is of itself,

not prone to being pronounced or becoming evidential.

that which is, does not seek further representation.

impressions taken are the burden of receivership.

and what is received is, 

made of what resembles 

by the experience method we commonly used.

essence in replicas, 

we may be claimed as a discovery, 

may want to possess,

may portray as if such,

but evidential is only in the mind of the beholder,

at best as a prop-fest of presentation.

but the beingness still resides as essence,

un-reducible to the idles of being, made to appear,

as if evidential has essence as its just reward.

knowing of essence is only 

essence made known.

and knowing has no intention, no technique 

of immersion into essence, 

as made possible.

we are, as for the apparent evidences of a now,

as if only to inwardly experience, 

the ongoing essence of ourselves . . . 

just asking

so when, 

in the course of human experience,

does understanding come out 

of its own shadow-existence

and then, the being of isness 

cast no shadows?

so when, 

did human consciousness come to sip that isness

and experience lost its viewing perspective?

and when was memory discovered 

to be a form of functional idolatry

and its utility 

was perceived as an influence from a foreign hand?

and when was common sense realized

as just conceptual voting rights

and that comprehension was unrealized permission 

coming from a higher mind?

so what if language is, as coinage used,

had no dimension of time?

and what if isness only spoke of itself 

by being?

and that beingness had no surface of self-dom?

so what if imagine had a life of its own

and the state of nothingness 

never was or will be?

could the essence of substance 

have no medium of observational means?

and oneness has no sense of itself

other than immersed in the stream of its being?

could consciousness be non-positional

and space and time are undefined?

and could human-know have no residency

other than its life force presenting?

where say becomes a launch pad into essence

and essence only speaks of itself 

in its beingness?

hey, just asking? . . .

becoming

you can't find for where you're becoming.

it has no edges,

no clear demarcations of notice.

it isn't will-directed, 

not even by decision's maid, 

will alter its course.

sure, you can make of it, appearances.

you can create a language of description.

you can even script an entire monologue.

but becoming will find a way,

beneath, behind, and beyond,

what narratives you have in place.

becoming has its own rhythm and pace.

you are all the outcome, 

as experience will allow.

otherwise, it's news to you,

as in some time there after.

becoming is the cutting edge of being,

yet projection seems to rule one's view.

but in those precious moments,

when one's self is not so preoccupied,

there is a self of being and soul

that captivates and enunciates,

more by feelings than by actions.

there, you will find becoming

in its registry of means.

not that you can make words out of it.

but by presence, 

you can come to express,

that which dwells 

beyond what narratives you have proposed.

becoming is all pour and radiance expressed.

the rest is intermittency in passing.

'be' is its method

and 'coming' is a view from the yearn,

as permission to get out of your own way.

for you can't find your becoming,

but you can be, 

a conscious part of it's welcoming,

from within . . . 

 rebirth from within

am I only a bleacher seat experience of myself?

yet, I am that part of the lake of me,

that stealthy descends 

in the winter time of each experience

to a depth of my self as liquidity. 

a liquidity that will never freeze,

that lives for the beauty of inner animation,

that I sense where, 

there is stillness there,

in the confines of these overtures, 

of aloneness as almost sweet agony.

and yet, in slow silent soundless breath, 

there is a somberness ascending,

as if when the child within me

rebirths the worldliness of my adult.

for each of us, 

to our own self-sense, 

just in that way.

experience, as incoming,

is profoundly distractive. 

for the please of inward experience, 

is without the outward foray,

without the composition of a narrative,

and without even languaging 

as a fallback method.

somewhere within, this is what speaks to me.

and yet, I am reliant upon an outward context

to define me.

where so much of that grammar and punctuation is deceit.

truly, I am defined before meaning displaces me,

before cognitive takes the inner mike.

I have senses 

that will not make out well, 

into a worldly way.

I have a people-speak of oneness,

from before I took a self.

they choir,

before I outwardly took up singalong. 

they are of soundstage presence

before I was aware of audience regard. 

it is of experience,

without a self,

a oneness, before the outset of self.

maybe of a timelessness, 

without reframe or even self-considerations.

I give up worldly watching,

for the subtly of inner watchfulness,

as it accesses and refines.

this rebirth is ever the ongoing,

even before the intrusion of space occupancy

and its deliverance of me,

as if I am an I

and accounted for in the now

just by being a consciousness,

bound in time . . . 

immersion doesn't wag

the fundamental basis of immersion 

is that everything is in motion

and that the nature of identification

has no singular things to it.

how referencing identifies,

and falsely claims its essence as separate,

as if in a time-space continuum. 

when those are the mechanics 

of our state of reasoning

as a perceptual and experiential style.

we do relatedness 

as our means of comprehension.

the universe does not have the separateness

as its means of disclosure or presence.

we have a measure of integration

as in time and space measures.

when we make cogitation the relevancy,

by taking the mind version into account,

that does not make for the efficiency of the universe.

we are in a medium of observation as sensory input

while the universe specifically functions around us.

as consciousness, we have very limited frequency range.

as sensorially receptive, at best, we theorize 

in gross replicative models, 

attempting to get to source

but not becoming of source.

just with mentality-aware of source

is our own fundamental way of non-integration.

we, at best, observe but do not immerse. 

we don't become, 

we relate and acquire resemblances. 

we are an essence with a wagging tail.

hard for us to leave 

the wagging behind . . .