I share no fleeting glances with life, it's ajar before me.
In all its rigor, all it's continuity erupting in efforts and in reversion.
Always in offering on a pitiful day,
the atmosphere descending into primary.
The sun sweeping the sidewalk until it shades.
The crickets chirping and the birds solemn,
The grass swaying to the heartbeat of the zephyr,
And mans mind besieging itself from the glorious wonderings of his presence.
When one revolves thought and feeling, he destroys to create.
Manufactures to push away, all that seeing would do.
Living does not reject the deteriorated corpse,
And dying does not abandon its maker.
So when you wonder, my dear am I dead?
Be sure to differentiate the I you speak of, not the breath you take.
It is to swell and beautifully normal, but position yourself aptly because the thought of you exists, therefore you will taste all that is.
Depression welcomes you.
Happiness welcomes you
Pain welcomes you
Nostalgia carries you.
It can avert the eye with an irrational permanence, but it will also awaken the soul after its prolonged silence.
The seasons move with guile, you must move in alignment.
Do despair
Do rejoice
Do condemn
Most of all receive, but above all remember forever is not true.
And that you live beyond the one that tethers you.
You are here, hence you belong.
