There
is the ever so myopic seduction of concern
as
gained by personalized perspective.
Concern
appears somewheres from within me.
I
extend my internal motherboard
to
be operative by what I sense before me.
That
I subscribe to the world outside
as
to, somehow in the now,
and
further more somehow ‘turning me on’,
not
realizing my prominence in the denial
that
I am always on but not truly connected,
that
with this ‘brought on’ attention,
there
is the appeal, the draw, the enthrall,
the
unseen encouragement
to
give in to my focus of apprehension
that
I am now a first person part there of.
How
did I ever get
so
internal and disconnected
that
concern, my concern, could look and feel
and
smack me with a hard edge
and
a come on like this?