it has nothing to do with us

or things would be different

i think: but i could never know,

so i move forward" knowing that all remains the same

between us, without us manifesting our selves

as one beyond the one that there is.

the one that has us always , eternally forbade

wicked in its interpretations by others who believe

there is a choice within me strong enough to break

what has not only become, but what has been, will be

it is not a matter to be confused by or an interpretation

that is open for interpreting, there is a truth beyond us all

and that is where the vessel of his kiss and breath resides.

i worry about days where he forgets of me , and know that in all good that

i do i find the light derived of the same of him, therefore it must be true for

him to walk that eternal path of love, to know inly of me ; like i know of him.

the richest : fare grasp

to take something that is simple to the core

of the core so simple : and complicate it

to know of a truth that can not be dissolved

to confess it and justify it beyond the means

of necessity.

i have learned to be silent

to have fewer thoughts then are

convenient for a conversation

for a relationship

contentedness : neutrality

confused with apathy

with disinterest

even dishonesty

i feel the sky as it pulls in any direction

further away from me ; ever changing

the sand slip under my feet : the shore

rocky ; water algae ridden beyond my

control ; beyond my attempt to categorize

any of this it is felt to the fullest as adequate.

driving down endless highway ;

to see the excavation of land away from

tree roots with their lives taken away.

their breathes stopped

our breaths weakened.

the good

Like the good preacher;

the good revolutionary

the good sage, or prophet,

I speak to my people

of a love within one another

that we may find if we attempt

to open our eyes, if we clear our

vision, of what has been placed

so unfitting before us, and make our

path in truth.

in love. walking with only that in mind

the perils of being human are far to

complex for our new races to comprehend

finding origin : finding roots

in what has been and remains unchanging

is left to rest, while other priorities consume

us, our beings and our spiritual ways

in totality.

there is not a pattern in this beyond the

constant saturation of media and mayhem

un balanced with the glimpse of something

heartfelt and true.

Attempting to perceive self

seems indignant to do so

knowing that i have a place

in this life ; that one may call my own

i have not ever necessarily followed

or guided anyone anywhere ; and it is

not really time to start i suppose,

but in days i would define;

as less adequate then others

i have only myself to blame

i am reminded of consequences,

of actions; of things that so quickly passed

i did not know there would be a time to

think of them again ; but now

with only bitter, time on my hands

i wash away again what has been only

for the return to be less patient in the

squandering of.

i have not known easier days,

for i know where i am true and

where i am not ; but in the same

moment; i have never once struggled

this much ; though i have survived

far worse days then these.

survival is always in hindsight

now ah' daze, with all the convenience

of far beyond necessity, it is hard to know

of struggle, when born of a breed, raised

apathetic, and more so bothersome then

needed or of any purpose, but ones own.