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And this is how I come to you...

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posted on Apr, 16 2016 @ 02:28 PM
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The rose is gently thrown by the evenings wind
And the gentle tremors underfoot, til
The way is no longer clear
Or even pertinent
[ Another chorus of wind begins ]
It sways directionless, but now wanting to know
Do you want to know? Listen...
"Nothing"

The whirlwind explodes and the
Spectrum of light suggests, what?
Wait, don't speak yet
It gets better the less you know

Don't look too deep;
From the top pole, to the bottom rung
The enemy is within
Fabricated notions agreed upon
Do not always facilitate
The fluxuation of reality's intent

We've both seen aspects of its expression
Just enough to find separation, between us
So that, when our fleeting connections are established
We can wiggle in secretive delight

So, this is how I come to you
Humbled. Worn. Hypercurious.

I close my eyes and reflect upon the movements seen
Then, three dimensional space is established
In this moment of internal reflection,
And the dance begins anew

What do you see?




posted on Apr, 16 2016 @ 03:13 PM
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a reply to: intheblue

Nice writing. Awesome!



posted on Apr, 18 2016 @ 12:11 PM
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"It gets better the less you know" . . you said. Is there an unseen aura, white or red ?

"Don't look too deep " . .you said. Then why do I feel such dread . .dead . .ahead ?


But I can see the rose, borne by the wind, coming around, to connect again. Psyche cycle.



posted on May, 2 2016 @ 11:09 AM
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originally posted by: SIEGE
"It gets better the less you know" . . you said. Is there an unseen aura, white or red ?

"Don't look too deep " . .you said. Then why do I feel such dread . .dead . .ahead ?


But I can see the rose, borne by the wind, coming around, to connect again. Psyche cycle.


I've heard it said, once or twice
The world around you
Is a reflection of the world within you
As far as thoughts go, it's nice
To let go, and come through
To see the false and experience the true




posted on May, 2 2016 @ 03:19 PM
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If you . . .were in my mind, a certain day . . .a certain time,
a reflection of the world around . . .me, couldn't . .be,
as the one within me . . . don't you see ? It couldn't.

Inside is me at my best. Outside is . . .just the rest.



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