the becoming of one

I cry for my absence of others,

for that place in me of them.

I long for the first persons of us all.

I don't want memories as a substitute. 

I inhale the room of our shared presence,

as if the breath in me that fosters life.

for then, I am filled with expansion,

beyond what was given to me at birth.

we are so much more than any number of us,

when we are all together. 

it is not crowded there,

yet, to be in our vastness.

for then, I have no prerogatives from within.

sacred is as observance as presence.

any two of us there,

offers more than sensory can produce as aware.

other dimensions become prerogatives 

to embrace and to explore.

meaning, before then,

only presented a limited distant view.

but when together, 

aura interfaced and emersed to aura, 

as if prairies gathered, presented to sky,

and horizons, in response, carry a wisdom

beyond what our grounded say will ever manifest.

take to me to there, 

where within us is to gather, 

where togethering gathering yields.

together, we are of dimensions potentially wiser.

people want to call it love

but I feel like that is a bystander term.

it's what it's like 

as if the audience of self is in fashion.

what is, goes on without our withdrawal into words,

to have as just experience 

falsely claims its worth.

please be and then let me reside,

as time and space will provide for us.

that I may discover, 

no need for your absence upon me.

and that we forever carry on as becoming one,

with or without this physical, 

within which we already but almost

unconsciously reside . . .