Swan Eyes

I feel us, Love—as watchful as swans, peering at a naked future; where fever is spirit, the likes of souls, seated in, Namaste. Its body, mind, and heart, stressed through systems, this focus of temples: as born to achieve; as melded to wisdom; as chirping this silent language. I feel us dancing, ever this mint of jewels, pulling at aloof ladders—this shade of fuchsia, or an evergreen gray, this magnet of infusions; where tears are soft, as opposed to violent, as to avoid an upheaval. I worry about this—seeping into caves, fretting our whereabouts; this thing of rains, as soot and stars, captured by a sudden light; that faraway dream, a picture as a moment, as both are startled by gems; those inner seasons, that mental lagoon—the perch of hearts. We see it in souls, that rounded contour, flooded by neurotransmitters: We see it in souls, that inner sanctuary, ushered through Spirit: We see it in souls, a mixture of the two, as it was meant to be; this fury of flavors, this flurry of powers, as stationed in awakened souls; so flow this river, as greeted by ghosts, alert to something ecstatic; for life is moving, our grays are morphing, while morals are raging; to see such wealth, this inner art, where intuition mingles with intellect: that thing of mindstuff; those inner hassles; that castle about territories. They lead to valleys, colored by perception, as needed to exist; this ideal world, painted perfectly, even our false senses; but love is honor, as to build a fortress, a firefly inside a psyche; that warmth about essence, that moth of passions, as seen in outer activities. (A moment of silence) I love us, notwithstanding, probed by inner motions; to have it as yogis, or Christians, of salient Buddhists. I should contend, but this is violence, where a grandmother sets the tone; for this is love, to settle emotions, while standing firm on ethics; that outer ought, that inner tug—a set of feelings waxing with eloquence; to care beyond measure, as seeing such tragedy, as years morph into resentments; but know for love, this thing of peace, while nurtured through potent compassion; for this is life, this thing of souls—living through a set of perceptions.