the subtlety of being

the subtlety of being,

before experience becomes 

the consciousness of its takeaways,

before being a self 

became a consciousness contact sport.

being of the self 

that sneaks up on your being,

with the softest, subtlest, suspicious sense 

of deep intimacy.

having no three-dimensional permissions or restraints,

with just peculiar holographic views and remarks.

one's intake of these is a reductionism

into versions of very-understanding.

yet it's one's intake

that can be, 

beyond the normal range of sensory incoming.

one that is like being spoken to, 

from inside of being the being, speaking from.

the words make come and go evident,

but the presence of deliverance ever remains.

and that presence is not possible in language-capture.

it's like when it rains

and the rains, like the plural of drops,

is specifically and succinctly speaking to you.

but in no way, can you find,

from within your presence, awareness and understanding, 

to speak back to the rains

and feel conversationally confident in the exchange.

so upon hearing this, to experiencing this,

one goes on in the communion 

of relevant private self-dialogue.

imagine this to be like walking 

on the sea cliff of self sanity, safely,

and yet staring out into the deep space, beyond.

these walks can come to feature daily frequency

and an interface with a dimensional sense 

that otherwise is unavailable. 

they can take on unusual properties, 

such as unlimited sense of time-dimension displaced,

a reference to oneself, 

that is always immediately yet eminently unknown, 

coming into being, as the know,

as something that's comprehensible, 

but is more than meaningful.

possibly there is the realization 

that life is lived in the trickle-down,

from where this becomes sourced,

from this inner dialogue. 

there is no evidence made obvious,

and no retorts to say, that ever justifies.

it's worth noting 

that the energy of your being is permissive,

while the presence of your self 

has curiosities, questions and doubts.

it's as if you can express your circumstance, 

that with hope, 

than one day, everything will become clear,

acceptable and without restraint.

but until then, 

the journey seems so dreamlike 

in its own somewhat baffling way.

it can feel like your practical life 

is living on solid ground,

on an island of subjective awareness,

not knowing that, 

that island is floating in a larger sea, 

that can't be readily observed or sensed.

but then you have an awareness of this mystical gravity 

that otherwise can't be accounted for.

such are the pitfalls of the rendering of circumstance.

and then slowly, over time, 

you come to realize 

that you are where you are 

and you are who you are,

but not to be limited by that definition 

or the capture of your apparent circumstance.

you could realize yourself to be at a dance. 

but it's a challenge to realize 

that you have become the dance.

that the music of being 

now plays through you 

even though you don't know the name of the song.

and that all of the people 

that are in your dancehall universe

are there, dancing,

unbeknownst to their own sense of self recognition.

yes, we are all such a mixed media, 

beyond our dimensional sense of awareness, 

as selves undisclosed.

at some point, the rhythm of the music of you

becomes earnestly your seventh sense.

and that dimensional wisdom is not reducible 

to thoughts into words.

but your feeling nature, 

in a heart-full manner, 

can hear perfect pitch

and the listening of itself 

becomes ever invitational.

every human being is blessed 

with being self invitational.

eventually, we will all be 

as this concert . . .