The Implications

Sexual, the implications
of these streams of energy that rise,
unwarranted from depths of flesh;
responding so invisibly within the gist
of our sensation.

Yet how, pray tell, is one to know
the difference in the feel
of a sensation from
the feeling of emotion?

Only silence seems to answer,
while in the distance, stars reveal
a glowing attitude of a communion;
as I wonder and I wander oh so far
to catch a glimpse of meaningful
unuttered understanding.

Tiring, so tired of traveling alone
into these zones of utter unfamiliarity,
yet still somehow unable to create
the question that might someday answer
this quest within a mystery unknown.

Diving deep and flying high
or drifting in a lullaby, the question why
expounds itself in never-ending cycles;
wheeling, turning, moving round and round,
like the wheels of a train that canít be stopped,
or side-tracked by a one-man band
who plays the blues in utter hues of misery.

Flowing in a tide of oceanic new beginnings
I seek to stop, yet cannot find a way;
for my soul insists on yet another day
of the blindness of a popular denial.
Hinting, merely hinting in the whispers of the wind
that somehow, someday, all Iíve done
will somehow make a difference.

Not just for one alone, but for eternity;
and more, as endless shores wash in and out
amid the foam that always floats on top,
riding high upon the waves of all endurance
searching for an ecstasy divine,
that alters time and smoothes the way
into the brightness of a moonlit bay,
where spirit takes to flight yet once again
dreaming in pure wave of earthly pleasure.

Sexual, the implications
of these streams of energy that rise,
unwarranted from depths of flesh,
responding so invisibly with the gist
of this sensation that is truly
all we know of who we are . . .

? Michaelette ?

2/6/2001
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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