tagged along by my side

I observe my mind

and wondered how it got to be that way.

very task-bound, 

as if ask-bound with immediacy.

mindfulness is sensed as servicing, 

forever in need as narratives go.

I can sit down with my mind for tea

and feel like I am sipping alone,

not a shared pot,

not even the same environment, 

in presence co-shared.

my wonder is not about method,

it's more about cause-worthiness to even seek.

mind is the ergonomics of self in pursuit,

as a conveyer belt of experience 

in service to its cause.

and I, in witness, am supposed to be enrolled.

this as human endeavor, 

still seems a far reach to me.

not sure that I am asking why so,

or even the need for a how to express.

just ponderous, as a flood of experiences,

somehow observed,

and taken to be relevant.

but not really addressing 

my deeper sense of interest-allure,

beyond doing being a person.

some what to call it spiritual, no.

maybe existential towards esoteric, 

but spiritual as if religious or sacred,

not really, but many levels of witness involved.

so I watch what my mind does 

with this as a reality text.

looking into the verbal-river 

to hear for its flow.

sight clouds for the thermal dance 

occurring above me as sacred to see.

witness without intervention or shared dialogue/

here, just doing being a person, 

as if a puppet 

on a playground interacting.

surely don't have time as impending.

wish for the energetic truth to arrive.

find others as sacred temples,

even if they don't realize for themselves.

higher resonance invisibly happens,

yet not realistically addressed as real.

what real this is,

can't be addressed,

or accounted for by props or evidence.

and so what I am aware of,

could hardly comes to words.

yet the feelings are genuine and animated.

there are energetics that don't sustain in postures,

but flow through people almost unannounced.

just in their being. 

and how magical is that?

I don't want truth that poses.

I want revelation 

that travels as lightness of being.

nothing of a noun stature.

all as a potential oneness of verbs.

to be beyond my sensory intake as relevant.

where I become lost 

in the baptism of found.

as not a single soul 

but a collective residing. 

and so along the way,

I observe my mind,

and tag along, 

as if for a greater need 

to be realized . . .