Mind fold

Soaked in the endocrine, the goads and spurs of emotion,

All thoughts are unbidden, intrusive.

The inner voices only sound like yours.

Your mind is just world detail too.

I run to achieve stillness, a portable peace.

Spring morning, I line up dewdrop prisms;

Brilliant green in one eye, intense gestational red in the other.

What if authenticity is just existence, label-free, in the now?

What if you were always at your destination?

Twilight, and the greying woods are like stage scenery, still thick with birdsong.

And for a few seconds of clock time, I merge with an untagged world.

Now becomes Here,

Here becomes Always.


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