the deep code of love

the deep code of love. 

it travels on.

yet more precious 

than the symmetry of snowflakes,

and easily just as visually undisclosed.

can vibes renounce the language of desire

for a deeper truth existence

yet be in the menu of consciousness,

it is not written or pronounced there?

if one has an internal motherboard,

one that destines one's life by vibratory means,

it is there that essence to essence bonds?

but by language and sight,

the struggle to be and express from this truth

is humbled into behavior and say?

do our cumbersome means of expression apply

as if one tuning fork to another

yet where touch and sex and agreement may not reach?

is this where essence is continuously forming,

where our radiance has presence 

and is felt as measure.

and for that to be evident to one another,

is for snowflakes to melt into a single drop

going forward by that means.

are humans not basically skilled in that way

either by the culture and consciousness kept?

sure few have it, so clandestinely clear.

we would want to call all of them soulmates

by the means they present to and for each other,

while the rest of us journey on in complexity,

confounded by the implication of what love means.

we all want telepathic connectedness to be secured.

we all want touch to be a superior primary language base.

we all want the ever unearthing of the truth of us

in the presence of another as a deeper sense 

of self exposed in revelation

as ever a oneness expanding as expression of being.

who would dare to live that richly alive,

not knowing how that is intimately done?

when, in each of us, is risk a form of trust?

how deep a sense of energetics needs to come into play

when self-permission is grandly encouraged 

by the esteem intimate presence of another?

though, not by their speech or verbal approval,

not by their looks or gestures,

not by the narrative privately held about them,

but more so by their subtle energetic presence, 

by the immersion felt from them as taken in

and imbibed without effort or concern.

just harmonic with them

beyond what comprehension could claim,

as a deeper truth then legitimacy can defend,

as a sense of whole greater whole

than being from before, before,

as more of a sense of essence than self has ever known.

and we want that to arrive in a narrative called love,

a simple reductionistic term to represent

and to justify.

what lies behind the secrets that can't be breathed?

what that the mind cannot make plain?

what gives dimension to awareness

that cannot come by any other means?

what makes sacred, as such a focus, so mundane,

as a steadiness beyond what trained focus can do,

an immittance of being that sources from within

and lingers and expands at the same time?

it even makes shade into a form of lightness.

it makes the trudge of decisions more effortless,

the sight of circumstance more passable,

the means of conscious existence more fluid.

and we want to speak it into a word in language spoken?

we want to believe that fireflies come from the sun,

that lit candles can tell us the story of sight,

that confoundedly, love is all around

yet we are all one dimension shy of knowing as being?

for being will always proceed knowing

by the way essence precedes form

and then, oneness only comes to know of itself . . .