Oh So Close To Mine

I feel your spirit, oh so close to mine
waiting for a chance to enter in
to this reality of flesh and form I am.
Each time it does, my world spins again,
dizzying, within the lack
of its capacity for true communication.

I cannot help but wonder if you know
the great affect of feeling that you bring,
as intuition speaks so oft’ in blind emotion.
The source this time, a great denial
pending within you,
querying the sense of a devotion
to the blindness of the lies
that you still choose to keep in force
beyond all reasoning.

And yet the course of all existence
seems no more than slowed
within your altering response;
for soul is instantaneous
and spirit always game for change
in its reaction
and then enforced in action -
all the knowingness of yet a
greater whole within reality.

This reality of flesh needs yet
the other layers of existence
to be complete within itself;
and here, a touch means everything,
within the gist of our experience in form.

Layer by layer, you sift and you strain,
attempting to remain
within/without a thought;
and worse, within a string of blind belief
that never speaks of this reality at all;
until our flesh reveals again
the truth this sensation
of all ecstasy.

Instead, we reach yet once again,
for a heaven that refuses to be spent
without all that a sense of death
and of finality can seem to bring;
for at the base of blind belief
a void remains, sustaining
nothing of our known reality at all.

But then the fall, as it must be,
free flying into mystery
surpassing all we used to be
by our assent that leads
into ascent as we descend into the flesh
to bleed the past of misery
and all the the pain of its unmaking.

We find ourselves then, once again reborn.
Perplexing, how this change can bring
the sacred to the altar of remembering,
just when emotion finds its wings
and sings itself into eternity
through this very flesh
that even now composes
the consciousness of all reality.

I feel your spirit, oh so close to mine,
yet not quite here, not yet for real;
wanting, needing, deep in its desire,
to touch, to feel, an thus make real
the crux of this reality again through me.
Yet still I wonder in the dark
of your refusal of the depth
of its reality
an this I'll never understand at all. . .

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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