the coalesce

how we want,

as if by experience,

a menu is provided.

how we yearn,

is as if ether called

from the self within,

making for the props of life

into mischief manifest.

for there, the wizardry of being

that boundlessly applies.

for it was never the object

but always the artfulness,

never the intention

but always the embrace,

never the statement 

but always the spirit in play.

this is where 

covet never had a chance,

where lust was as effective as a sneeze,

where hanker was dressed 

in too much indifference,

where want metamorphoses into called 

by drivenness giving up its life

for drawnness to come into full bloom,

where the canvass seduces the brush,

where the straw seduces the suck,

where compelled is the onrush 

into the arms of fate,

where one is 

what channeling one's being from within provides,

where what forces from within arrives, 

to outwardly manifest,

embodied as presence,

embolden into being,

where want, leaves the chew,

to eventually have wings,

to leave the story,

for the future of ink to say,

to leave the ink, 

for the authenticity of blood to live,

to leave the blood

for the breath of aliveness to fill,

to leave the breath

for being the whisper of magic.

the waterfall of care

has the vibratory of connectedness,

the vision of inclusion,

the vast of ever-permission,

the linger of oneness,

without questions to answer,

without display to an audience,

without love as declared.

just the stream without banks,

as the ocean without shorelines,

the liquidity without weight bearing,

the be without action as proof,

and the coalesce coming into light . . .