That we

We are just street chalkings

on an evidential blackboard

soon to smolder

then to dust.

We are a constellation of compulsions

with secret alliances of acquiescence.

We drink from other’s nectar

for there is an unquenchable thirst.

Nothing about any of it

is straightforward or perfectly clear.

Many lessons step forward

from the ubiquitous shadows

of expectation’s curse.

We scratch each other’s nervous system

without relief or rare refinement.

We are exquisite pains

from the slights

or devastations of others.

Collectively we chorus to a flashpoint

when disaster bids our calling,

yet we will argue over opinions

like few mountains to the wind.

We can be more emotional

than karma could have intended.

We are fooled by rational thought.

We make no sense

in the deep privacy of our beings.

We are passioned or permissioned

beyond the disguises we put forth.

Attention given

even if luridly from the beast of us

is still akin to compliments.

We, as engagingly grateful,

are as an uncommon perception received.

Maybe good timing is as an attribute

to share amongst our closest of friends.

With sympathetic tones

from our voices

as therapeutic methods of touch,

we emotionally stroke the spirits

that give us aliveness

from their hearts.

We are the pursuants

of the I.V. from others.

We are the calm of chaos

beyond any measures of containment.

It is all for the effortless oneness,

that we are . . .

to wake it up and put it forth.