my ear canals
are like tear tracks
for my brain is weeping
weeping for and from itself
but also
for its absence of presence
a longing journey
away from being
a sleepwalk
with occasional flashes
memories were subbing
for aliveness
even the bones
of my body confess
willingly admit
that solid is a pretense
now happier as a choir
of cells that sing
a cathedral
masked in posed isolation
posturing in time and space
as an entity existence
now there is
new dimensional space
and an acoustics
of fluids humming
there is embodiment
as source
and enormity
as perspective
the mind is comforted
to serve
experience does not lead
but receives
what leads
claims no boundaries
who of me who leads
meets with empty fullness
what is coming
it is more confluent
then introductions accomplish
what is grand
has no scale
it is an emotional sea
without shoreline
we are all there
reclaiming by being
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