We Know this Feeling

I couldn’t capture it, this type of mood, as knitted in feelings; this circle of blandness, those inner observations, to want life unknowingly—as to live boldly, those seconds of activity, while to assert, “This is living”; that faucet of dreams, pouring into souls, while happiness must transform—whereat, are chases, as to outdo joys—as mischief madness; that elusive web, to find that one moment, as to chase it forever. We mold miracles, to sculpt experiences, peering at young eyes; this mystic glance, to know but futures, that moment in us their reality—as it comes with days, to appreciate subtleties, to avoid disasters. We know formulas, this pitted design, this volcano atop a conscious—to make a second, by which is joys, this type of manufacturing. We examine life, that inch in time, while warring against dullness—this fraction of persons, gilt in fancies—a simple cup of coffee—as feeling immortal, reading theosophies, bedded in images—this deep equation, as gazing at chaos, to knit some facet of order: that place in souls, groaning for permanence, or taken by heart such fleetingness. We shift with winds, that spectrum of feelings, as a mere gesture flurries a tear. I know not our weathers, traveling embedded islands, attempting to harness fictitious jewels; to find but one, while to revisit that space, cultured by elusiveness; where days are painted, this list of activities, to utter, “This life of woes.” I know not reality, as to know reality—this portrait permeated by paradox. I feel this moment, as something familiar, this sort of permanence—as not in cement, but in constant returns, forging some sort of chaos; as to speak to knowing—I know this feeling, as to abolish solipsism: this inhumanity, grounded in selfishness, as we live to know ourselves: those wild winds, peering at cherry oak, seated at something colorful: this wheel of natures, engrained in nature, to cherish another soul; for life is forged, a series of investments, compounded by kindness; this shift in turns, as created in knowledge, to have so much to give; this miracle love, a spectrum of seas, while affected by love; that wellic song, while brains would dance, this feeling by waves a fortress; to dine forever, cleaving to that good thing, where something manufactured becomes reality.