Meditation or medication.
There seems to me to be one track to freedom
        and we're all on it,
But what multitude of obstacles
        we choose to face
Is up to "us."

This clay figure that radiates energy
  
Was scultpted over eons of time by the gentle presses of nature's thumbs

Life is meaning expressing itself,
How we choose to guide it
Is up to us -
Our emotions are but an interpretive language
That pulses with each breath, mingling memory with intellect,
Feelings are filters, like our eyes and skin,
Meant to figure dreams of chemistry
        into being.

Who we are within
Is as formless as a hazy dream,
Only suggested, imagined to be.