Most parts seem controversial. Most aesthetics are immortal. With musing seeming personal, at moments, correlated. We might speak to human excellence. We might dispute it. It depends on sentiments, of course, beliefs. On one hand, it’s apropos, on another hand, it’s inappropriate. We wait for cues. A lot of beautiful things are controversial. We agree. We disagree. We shift. It takes time to break chains. Some are aware. A question comes to mind: How many endorse your healing? All of humanity is said to be healing—as intrusive as that is: I do apologize. Indeed, it must be untrue, like love at first sight—far too wise for that: A long journey. To have looked into a soul, capturing a vision, to know by persistence of feeling. Trying to shake an assumption, it keeps
coming back, does it make it true? Such academia; systematic doubt; an age of uncertainty—in a world needing certitude. One says: “It isn’t that serious.” Of course, we must draw lines. We must decide when to suspend judgement. Does it work that way? Maybe. Such surrendering: It returns to control of elements, taught to self, as it became ideal. With idyllic pains about us. Pushing passed barriers incessantly; up against tornadoes, climbing out of volcanoes, such enriching lights. Each story is unique to its inheritance. Each facing their own music, in which sings eternity.
