all of thought is mocking itself,
as the world around surrounds this.
for all of thought is epitaph.
now is unapproachable
if thought is the primary method.
yet the emptiness of think is there within
before the production of thought is aftermath.
memory is a byproduct warehouse.
the emptiness of think is always current
but the byproduct of thought is the harvest,
that fills the warehouse with memory.
think is the search.
thought is the outcome.
the think of search can be vast and immersive
without the fallback of yield.
to swim in this river empty flow
is as a consciousness
without self on display.
please, a river of think, take me
until there is no self undissolved.
I want to be a viscosity of love,
a capacity of embrace,
on a cloud journey of placement and timing.
to be the thermal religion of rain,
where nature and the earth will embrace me,
once again.
no more the foreigner of earth as a human.
no more the contradictions of method and cause.
just the dance of think into alignment.
where nature presents as human is in tow . . .
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