living's secret

 

reality has become the residence 

of positionality.

our morality is a code 

of well kept conclusions.

where by,

living under the thatched huts 

of time intervals,

days are bound into weeks 

further bound into months

and age becomes the mandibles 

of years in the chewing.

living, of itself, 

is prosperity's well kept secret.

burdensome becomes the mindsets 

of carriage.

at times, 

hard to tell the mindset from the living.

if I carry a heavy rock from a bottomless pit

up to the pinnacle of a mountain's peak,

calling that enduring effort

the meaning and usage of my life,

does that rock then become 

an integral of the mountain 

or was mass and effort all an illusion,

falsely claiming my existence 

as a metaphor?

and was I, 

in the illusion of existence,

duped into the act-outs of 

a presence of reality,

a morality of superficial convention,.

an illusion of time as constantly relevant

and my living it as ever the passage

from pit to peak

with mindset as method.

well, did I ever really take up residence?

was my morality ever overdressed ?

did time ever take a big enough bite 

out of me?

and did living ever tell me its secret? . . .