Buried beneath the buzzings
as the quizzical of busy minds,
deeply behind the sensorials
occupying temporal’s passage,
a sleeping walking thick
of habitual frames,
that pass so swiftly
as almost unnoticeable
but still calculating for themselves,
cues up for a potential response.
All of this is in action
as trip wires of self-identity,
all as honorable contracts
of self-respect,
all for the code rules
of self character in place
heaped high with longings
overcoming disappointment
dragging along recent memory
possessed as titillating recall
pitching desires worth pursuing
and immediacies of attention
as firm commitment towards resolve.
There is an essence
as a constant
in its ever-changingness the same.
It is source-full
beyond every measure taken,
absent to accountability’s call,
dismissible by distraction blend,
beyond the bleed through
of life as metaphor
and possibly this “now”.
but it is only as a cliché,
only in manner of its delivery,
unattainable by effort,
insurmountable by wisdom gained,
surrender’s surrender,
within the inadmissible’s journey,
finalizing as joyless joy.
It is from beyond
where words have causal origins,
where distinction lives
in absolute obsolescence.
That there,
of no there,
of everywhere
is beneath the muted ever so.
The small deaths of ticking time
yet in all as so denied
this oneness still pervades,
uninterruptible by the pour.
No mass . . . no form . . . no means,
we, as one,
live as the acting out
in vacant celebration . . .
It is so unidentified as such
yet only by the applause of breath,
riding in the physical cellular
as the living wave of life and death.
In giving spirit to this,
the palette of expression
however deaf . . . dumb . . . and blind
in wherewithal
but yet an elixir in reverence,
clear of measure is . . .
what we of oneness be . . .
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