Thinking is no more than just
a misty dream
that crashes hard against reality; altering
the deeper feelings only love can bring; just
like a wave that seeks continuance within a
constant state of re-arrival; beating at the cliffs
until the substance of their form is torn into
Imagining and imaging – oh,
sweet the dreams
we wish to make come true; yet still, no matter
how we reach into the skies, it always comes
back to these forms of flesh that are much more
than just a dwelling we inhabit. Deep, the feelings
that become a mere perception of all revelation
of those senses that lie so divided within us.
How quickly, we forget the
touch of all reality; as
once again emotion rises to proclaim its right in
our existence. So quickly then, we seek no more
than just release from all we feel. Shall we pop
another pill? Well, only if it is prescribed, you see;
for then the figure-heads of our society are paid
for that which ever was our right of birth. Shall
we then smoke another planted seed that brings
no more than just unconcsious sleep and the
unknowingness and unreality of an hallucination?
The midnight hour is here
again. The clock is
ticking, even now, within those dreams we dream.
For we have been induced and then obsessed
within an ordering that seeks no more than our
submission to the fall of all that is most individual
in us. Lying in potential, ever seeking for the will
of mind - to still the endless, aching entering of
other minds and more, that basic of the realms
of all we truly feel as real; while those other wills
still seek no more than just to still the power of
this inward revolution of our individuality that
comes to be the universal of eternity of life in form,
and so needs expression in a striking outward flow
of words, revealing the understanding of all that we
so truly need to just go on.
This voice, oh inner ecstasy!
This only tone that
rings so true! Herein lie all the answers we have
sought. Brought first within a dream that wakes
us shockingly from deepest sleep, compelling us
beyond all want or will to make its voice reality.
Truly, do we rise and fall within its beauty and
its truth. Reaching so much deeper than the words
that still too often speak through someone that we
think as other than ourselves alone.
Echoing, these questions that
we ask ourselves
and every other – of the where and how and when;
melting now, as all complexity of mind must reach
yet further still, to all that lies beyond division.
For the only question ever and yet still
that needs an answer – is just "Why?"
And herein lies the meaning of all life -
because we love...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .