There is the simple fact
of seeming to exist
within one’s own skin
How so fully do I agree
and also not agree
I can barely keep track
There is my pleasure,
which is the simplest kind
–existing as existence
And yet when life creeps
under my skin and dwells
there, I may call it pain
I perceive myself
but not directly —
these sense perceptions
Are the farthest thing
from direct after all
the lifetime of filtering
The screens clogged
and overloaded with
debris lodged and collected
What of it?
Can I see true
and/or dream real?
What of the attempt?
On the precipice of
forces consternating
In that collision, can
like forces co-exist
without turbulence
Transcendence arrives
with the interfolding of
subject and object
15 May 2015 ~ San Cristobal, NM
Thanks, Janice. I enjoyed this!
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You are very welcome, Don! Glad to have your heart and eyes taking this one in! Blessings.
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