When every moment is
Struggling with every
Fiber to inspire, expire
Breath, feeling is a
Dream deferred,
Unrealizable, they say.

Yet, to feel builds emotions,
Power innate, the thread
Interweaving the fabric of life.
Though, pro-science projects
Thought is power, sensing,
Just informing, to be processed
By our computer, brain, for
Exigent programming.

Yet, conscience intuits that
Thoughts are emoting, voiced.
...That fear is naught, but,
Shadows of past's un-integrated
Experiences, cast over our
Presence and future. While both,
Integral to realizing insight,
Growth, balance and movement,
Are necessary to humanity.

"La Machine", uses them to rote
Us into un-being an efficacious part
And parcel of it, an automaton.
More, better mechanistic survival,
The reason for human being,
In societies' eye. Who dares to
Disagree, all in for a penny, in
For a pound, mostly, decay bound.
Sides, delusions, clouding their eyes.

Though, feelings hibernating
Emerge with strength, through
Discipline, which Castaneda relates
As, "the art of feeling awe", they
Can be concentrated. Focusing,
Realizing reality on wing,
Imbued co-creation in flight.

As well, what of our soma's foci of
Attention, solutioning all life,
Through myriad interrelations?
What of the breadth of our
Perceptions, the depth of every-
Ones earthen interconnections?
...Of the intimacy, hearts fathoms,
Touch's immediacy, aural artistry?

Mammon says, "what of it", being
Doesn't make money, take control,
Projections do. "We" say, they're
Le raison d'etre, potentia evolving,
Humane being, alival. I would be
Just for a day, as a mayfly, if I were
More me, rather, than as long as
An eagle flies, selling out, killing.