Us, as the offering * 8/17/14

We are cast in a rigid impress of soft tissue,

blending towards aging and outcomes.

Our visual sight is compelled

to the point of impasse, settling for symbols

that steal away from the intricacies

of our full spectral range.

We possess a gathering of sight-felts

that have, as a flock, flown away

from our habitats of inner vision.

Our eyes are not present

to be fulfilled with the view of our spirits.

How we most generally have sound

is bundled into song, wrapped up in lyrics

to personalize the cries and whimpers

of our summaries of self-assessment.

Sound as spiritual evidence, is a way a ways

from the eternal orchestral’s current of hum. 

How we go about feeling has palate

but an orientation towards billboards

and we, as a whole, are in desperate need

of a one-hair brush of focus

to get the truth out of our souls.

We have found that the inner wisdom

of speech is to be all about the tonality

and not so much about topic’s destiny

or, (and this could take decades),

the intended mind-fill as torching.

Eventually what we read is what

the mind, as in each of our minds,

is saying privately to us all,

whether justified by print or hearsay

or kibitzer from within.

Secretly and most essentially, we are

only to soulfully engage with that

which is written in wet blood flowing

or encased near by in the vapor of breath

or impassioned with what is

flood-filling in our minds from our hearts.

And if per chance that life is

one fluid lucid dream beyond all of this,

within the foreseeable day-night reverence,

than we admittedly are,

breathing the confluent dream alive.

For we are utmost the stardust

made human in passing.

We are the sweep of eternal gratitude

made conscious by living.

We are of the oneness as love, as our love

allows us to intimately and individually share

this manifest as our express,

as us, in the offering . . .