know this to be true 11/11/17

as I vacantly look up

from, as if within,

the dusty floor of reality’s gaze

bolstered by these wooden floorboards of logic

firmly, forever glancing upwards

I hear the swish from the petticoats of half-thoughts

almost as altocumulus clouds

as if sound had sight to me, in passing

humans, as weight bearing impressions

in my world of constant forbearance

I profile by gait in their passage

I know dance from paced

I feel for the movements of sullen and sober

as if I had a life of forest all over again

I knew these people then

but from a different stance and view

still providing as of that time

but more of shade and ambience

now is all of patient passivity through wear

to know of me mindfully from before

where as I sang to the sun

and whispered underground, amongst each other

currently I flat-line in service

present as if smiling through a false floor tan

my revealed autobiography, an open book

but cross-sectioned and never read

now you occasionally mind-fade, and look down

where before, you use to look across and up

and then I would tell you of breeze

and frame for the deep space of sky to view

but now I am of compassion

for your cause and circumstance

there is complexity between us, unsaid

a time will come

when circumstance will surrender us

as distant from each other by design

and we will be one

one without the cover of mass

dressed in circumstance

and by every fiber of my being

I know this to be true . . .