symbolism shakes mysticism
from unresistant branches
proving that fascination leaves
telepathic facets of first realities in
the palms of second hand intuition
focus rings with an insistence capable of guiding me to act in fear, which most commonly means there is no action at all. the body’s become a hill distracted by wind chimes at its peak, ‘til tumbling into physical illusions of perspective, where cowering behind a bush is more natural than freeing the two birds at prolonged rest in my hand. sometimes i feel like an experiment isolated from the possibility of direct connection to the compensation established by the likes of leaves in rapport with gentle winds; no matter where they are in their life cycle, they find themselves moved by an invisible breeze indifferent to the depth of their green or the glint in their gold. moments are carefully caressed strolls of assumed companionship and biological potential, filled with wounds that never test their faith. one always has a reason for moving the other, and though there may be resistance, life itself seems to win.