Recognition

But I do look sweet lover

to the ever sullen woods

in a place with no memory

with why, how, and could,

but to each that I proclaim

the volume turns up short

and every beat is twisted

into some recoiling retort,

reality it would seem

is nothing but the tale

and living is a story

as in the belly of ones whale.

 

To ponder for even a moment

that consciousness is to ‘I think’

to be aware of this surrounding

in the wonders of a place

to where no human has gleaned afore,

along the waters edge

swimming through each step

and understanding every nothing

as the precious experience

of a lingering future vision.

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