If I feel then it’s real.
If I can’t feel then it’s an idea.
But can’t I feel an idea?
Isn’t love an idea whose
manifestation lies in feeling?
What I see isn’t real until I feel it.
Love isn’t real until I feel and am felt.
Until then it’s just an ache,
a nagging sense of the incomplete,
a desperate longing for something
beyond something that’s just out there
in a place, beyond which, there are dragons.
A dangerous journey, my arrival assured
only if I feel. I see, I hear but these senses can deceive.
Feeling is the last refuge of reality,
without it we are adrift in a sea of ideas.