Awareness is us.

I have feet and it’s handy to have feet.
It enables the earth and the sky to meet.
I have a hand and it handy to have a hand,
It allows the body to eat.
But as much as I appreciate a foot or a hand,
I’m aware, that there just tools of the meat.
They have a function and at times purpose,
But I’m fully aware I’m not it.
I have emotions deeper than some oceans.
and stronger than many a river.
Where feelings range from the dark
And stretch into random light explosions.
A wonderful sensory weaver
That can easily make any one a foolish believer.
Although I’m in touch with this invisible seer
I’m aware; I’m neither honesty nor the deceiver.
I have a mind, perhaps not of my own
But something that grows and moans.
Like a fish it travels through streams,
In search of a home.
Forgetting its function it wants to rule,
Always confronting the unknown.
But I’m more than aware,
That its limitations and demonstrations
Are all just figments in the world of
Imaginations.

Eliberocelta 06 2011

Under, over, and in between
Not this, that, or the other thing.
We try to see sight and keep it in a jar
What everything isn't---that's what we are.

Roses are red
Violence is blue
People like us
Are burning a bus

Awareness is... being this.
There is no one seeing, seeing is done.
Write a report, narrate the scene.
What is happening has already been.