what is of humanness conveyed?

does that which lives in us, 

within the confines of its own intimacy,

yet of its own nature, 

ever tremble in place

as stallions of its own fits and starts,

yet covering no ground of temporal gain?

in its occupancy of a presence,

is it yet energetically explosive 

in its silence of withholding,

in its stampede of stillness,

resounding of a thunder withheld?

is it of a boldness 

yet not mature enough

to have a surface presentable, 

going forward?

for these commonings of inklings 

into the elements of force,

to have not yet spoken of themselves 

and are they not yet readied, to be heard?

as if so unspecified 

yet be of the nature of subtleties 

that are forever in the build.

for to question,

what makes a fiber 

before realization 

comes to a consciousness to confirm?

are we of this myopic precision 

before it is possessed 

as if to become declared?

and how does that which anoints us 

declare to the christening of action? 

are we, from underlings into elements

that take up mood as their presence,

thus assigning to behavior 

act-outs in accordances? 

is this the release of the essentials 

that are otherwise unacknowledged 

and subsequently undeclared? 

that eventually, comes to be humanly known

as the existence of a smile, 

a weep, 

a touch, 

a glance, 

and a certitude of presence 

that in need,

is humanly conveyed? . . .