I’ve found you again and I know I’ll let go.
This search without end during this time here;
until the next. Ages come and go in heartbeats,
seconds, life times, and moments. Through it all,
all connecting, are you. And we, I, strive to walk the path we see;
we know. You ask us to walk the path that lies on
the tip of our tongue, the edge of our vision,
the edge of our knowledge and understanding.
This moment, these heartbeats, for this time I do.
You do not wait for there is no here or there for you.
It all is in a moment eternal. So the moment is
and is not. The concept cannont contain the reality;
the actuality that is; that we know half seen, and less acknowledge,
that tickles our I’s and flavours our lives.
For those who would see what is partially seen;
hidden, inside and outside believed,
perceived in part, in part perceived. And we
stumble
graspingly onward
dancing to a melody half heard in the night,
through the darkness, quietly, light,
pulling us on, flailing or flight. We continue,
onward. Resistant or running. Onward. But without moving
in ways externally perceived. We move not onward outside
but onward inward in a letting go and learning.
A grasping through release. A gaining through loss.
Life lived onward inward. Inward outward. Inside out.
Truth lived. Lived truth. Beauty being. Being beauty.
Life of choices, chosen choosed. Life that swirls
around the periphery, the dancing distant that distracts.
The crowded life that attempts to avoid the issue, but in attempts
lies the struggle and an unacknowledged acknowledgement of… what?
Which is the question in which lies the answer.
That we know and never will.
That we have found and will never find.
What surrounds, undergirds, envelops, emants, and exudes?
Love?
Which is more than we can understand or comprehend yet is
that which is walked with, on, in, and through.
I don’t understand. Love. It draws me on. Love. It pushes
me away. Love. My logic illogical before a truth beyond reckoning.
Love. It holds me together. Love.
It tears me apart. Love.
Is it crazy to seek what you know but never can?
Is it crazy to seek what you’ve already found but never will?
A choice of darknesses to walk in;
a) One self-closed self-imposed.
b) One open yet also dark.
Straining for sounds; the barest whisper or hint of whisper.
Looking for light; a split second flash, doubted, yet pursued.
Groping forward or back; yet moving.
Which choose we?
The journey in darkness?
Or darkness?
The flashes of light and half whispered sounds exist
in the darkness if you will uncover you eyes
and open your ears in the often dark, often quiet.
I have seen and heard, experienced briefly and in part.
Dare to be open. Choose to seek.
Live in the dark or die in the dark.
Each of us does choose.
Which choose you?