What is the motivation behind meaning...?
What can be said of thoughts that go unheard?
The naked eye is unabashed in its own free reigning field
Left to nothing but the scent of it's own desires,
Floribunda- unknown to man.
Rapture is a formidable noun when one defines without boundary,
The length of their own needs.
Not in tune with what may be out there, in the great wide open of-
The Human Race.
But instead, what we are made of; as defined by what it is we think we need.
Strip the carcass of feeling and we are left dead
Devoid of the purest form of magic known to man- Touch.
The warmed hand of care can turn a hardwood surface into cooled lava
Melting slowly, 'neath limbs that lack the foresight to wait until proper 'means' arrive
The admiration of 'impulse' grows in value, along with every grey hair that I call my own.
To explore my thoughts without relief, I challenge years of self-made taste
Refined in the ache of escalating energy that seeks exit, contained further by the absence of action.
I choose to challenge those decades past; where my musing granted respite from the body's voice
When I was comfortable to wallow in lust without defining which flavors triggered what
Causing habit-forming inclinations that once the vibrating muscles relaxed, woe befell me.
There is yet a lifetime to be lived now that age has defined with conviction, what truly consoles
I seek 'myself' to satisfy a heart that beats in moderation now, years after calming storms of love
A tempest I once knew has left his mark; indelible. To which I pay continual homage
I took a trade from his wrath, gaining valuable ground with every step I walked, away from his heat.
No matter how far or away from this life he has flown, he yet lives within me, and I in him.
I need no more than the prudent wish to remain open to life; to live with organs that prosper
In health I travel, veins flowing with equal force to places where mature feeling lie in wait
There is no guarantee of tomorrow, held in yesterdays earned behaviour,
There is only 'now', a place where I can coast in comfort, safe within my own resolve.
...and yet, for all my contemplation... I am aware.
Aware that 'round every bend there lives tomorrow; a window protected by insight
To see what lies before me and feel capable to lift and push, up-up and away
Into the day that wants 'life' with each moment, up further into a night-
That loathes the lonely but prevails in spite of its own distance
The stars create friction with my heart and again- I am alive within my own purpose.
I am set free in my own maturity, a lifestyle earned through many years of trial and error
Vindicated by the ever-constant indulgence of exactly when to know what mood is appropriate
In a time like- Now.