On the threshold of knowledge, the self often subliminally evaluates what it has gone through, but may not be prepared for higher versions of truth–one of which is that the Self generates all that it has experienced, love including.
By eaa1118
The world is sometimes one-willed castanets–
Image via Wikipedia
You bang your cries against each other for a try,
You turn around, your breaths catch butterflies!
Sometimes you succeed with pretending for a while…
This is just me, you tell the image of yourself,
Pulling itself out of the physical. You lose,
And do not mind what heartbeats leave…
You wake up and forget what fairies steal your time
A sun limping across the bars of your room
Fails to rotate with wishes on the pane. Astonished
At nothing, you see it melt, trek through
The leaking faucets of your past beliefs.
Simultaneous with the rain, the songs rained.
What dreams wouldn’t get wet with such tears,
Before you even shed them? And what smiles
Could not fold from your lips? When you watch the rain…
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