it seems
a line to be crossed
a completion to be made
acknowledging truth..finally
of mind over matter
of our inborn projection..
it is a river to be crossed
a small boat through hazards..
hazards of insistence that
the material world speaks
for itself
evolving and sourcing
rising before our eyes
as we await a next move..
easily are we immersed
in lively appearance..
we occasionally back off
noticing our untruthful
immersion..but soon
clamor and curiosity
render our small boat
stalled on this side..favoring
a crossing delay...