Interior Pathway

…we tow feelings, while challenged by existence, somehow waving back at ourselves: such endless shadows, such faint regard, where emotion determines responses: our inner terrain, our shifty perceptions, while deep feelings are involuntary....     ...we appear serious, we shift our compass, where something gentle seems strenuous: our backboards watching, our passions heaving, if but this inner strength: those voice-overs, those sound-bites, or this vehicle presumed as Reality: those capital agendas, those suppressed appetites, while seeming indifferent….        

…we envelope insistence, our persistent mornings, our resistant evenings: those daily rehearsals, our weekly charms, while alienated from experience: or too involved to sing, where life is at terms, or existence seems decoded: but anger looms, born to humankind, this force giving life substance: those wintry galaxies; those rioting aches; or time by minerals….     I looked at reflection, this resounding map-war, where occurrences are battling for mirror praise: to find such indebtedness, or indelible heart-pegs, where life has taken its form: while nibbling pineapple, or pacing clouds, as one removed from squares: such is tic-tac-toe, or a week playing our souls, at courage to take a shower: this meaning in resistance, or something watching, if this something resides internally.     It was years at flights, accustomed to disagreements, or favored for something passive: this dance with inevitability, those showcase destroyers, or porcelain chimneys: such romantic soot, or charming smaze, while consistency remained aloof: this tale here told, concerning longevity, where Love becomes dependable habits: that fair claim, even with its chaos, to know by familiarity such reachable interaction.    

…we pause cautiously; we summons creativity, or settle for universals: this slant in reception, those appealing sights, or this range of devil-may-care: those tall buildings, this edifice of uncertainty, where insistence becomes by seesaws: this up-life, or perfect interaction, while tumbling through existential rivers: this young self, those old tendencies, our playful spouses: to reinvent our receptors, to have that warm location, or at times, feeling deep curiosity: if but to re-adorn, if but to symphony softly, if but to doodle in our memoirs: those solemn experiences, this solemn existence, at solemn beliefs….

I speak to something latent, but alive enough to sense, where deep joy is shadowed by presence: this force in humans, this essence in religiosity, or this inner person: that watchful magnet, this vigil receiver, this aloof quarterback: our song sung sternly, or seconds to loosening diligence, or moments at vulnerability: our responsive souls, making others conscious, while indulging in rare encounters: those esoteric tentacles, those spiritual lullabies, or this rich insistence: at turquoise hills, climbing with grace, despite, such inner resistance: to be in seconds, to dance in moments, or to reflect and sense this loosening belt…our feelings at oneness, our selves at consciousness, while onlookers are experiencing sameness: those impetuous thoughts, this uneasy feel-good, where coffee, pen and pad, and semi-courage seem delightful: this sullen-joy, this sullen mountain, this human predicament…while normality appears conscious, and disorder appears unrehearsed, insofar, as determining suppressed behaviors: where anvils seem needed, and gavels seem appropriate, especially, where utter chaos is demonstrated: this Judge in souls, this diligent conversation, at faces with something unlike ourselves: those dark inclines, or such murky marsh, to realize our design is quite with purpose.