The magic of a touch - one
can bring the meaning back
into these cells that dwell
within the realm of all sensation;
creating endless variation
within the color and the tone
of lives once thought
to live themselves alone.
I think, therefore I am no
than intellect alone -
while every other realm recedes
into the wells of intellect’s indifference.
What then, did Sartre really know at all . . . ?
When the magic of a touch - one touch -
brings meaning back into these lives
that in extreme, can bring no more
than misery into the vast unuttered realm
of all emotion.
For consciousness is so much
than intellect alone can ever be
and the evolution of our destiny
expands itself into the everyday
of the emotion of all feeling;
where children play in innocence,
reminding us again that this sensation
is all we’ve ever really known at all.
While empires fall in their
and the very will to be, becomes
the utter, only destiny
we see . . .
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...