The boldness of earth,
the way it keeps on.
No matter the abuse we hurl,
its fronts for a bigger picture.
We are caught in a sting operation
on a matrix we can’t comprehend.
We are sent to a prison of continuance
that is somehow federally funded.
Make no mistake
but they continue to unceasingly happen.
The moral prism only represents.
Nothing is in stone that we have access to.
Mass is our confidence game.
The hustle is always our life story oversold.
Oh when does conversation become chatter?
When does the death walk breakout into jubilee?
I’ve heard nothing that hasn’t been as repeated.
I am living off of the do’s and don’ts positions.
I am wandering to get in touch with my feelings.
Don’t ask as if it is as a ploy of distraction.
Either we lip sync until we have a common voice
or we pass along on the idleness of our time.
I don’t need more of opinion’s merits.
I want the ‘us’ of us out of here.
Give me disaster if that’s what we need to wake up.
I miss the commonness of over-soul connections.
I miss the wholeness of where we are one.
If I could cry for everyone, I would do so.
If I could demand it out of us, I would.
All the clues live buried inside each of us.
Common sense is puzzling in that regard.
There is no single question that unites us all.
It doesn’t start with language from an afterthought.
The original childlike awareness is buried out there,
before we came into cell division as our means.
Go to that there and fill now with it in every way.
Not to overload or overwhelm but to common mind.
Broadcast from a oneness of heart.
I loose myself to know you there.
For then bold earth is a joyous ride . . .
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