Thoughts
Conditioned as an old leather glove
Fitting as an endless search of love
Jammed together as knots on a rope
Sliding a slippery *****
Me as Misanthrope
Lover of hope
Hater of nope
Dope.
Some smooth as a quiet summer eve
Chaotic as a garbage heap
Wrapped in twilight sleep
To haunt your night
With barely a peep

Hey there.
Over here.
Where oh where
have you come from?

A heavenly abode?
Where here is there
And there is anywhere.
Where thoughts play their part
Playfully
Awareness got its start
Necessarily

As you
As me
Speaking
Subjectively
Must we rethink
Objectively
Or is it the other way around
Chasing the thought down
Into the silent part of town
I have booked a reservation.
Into divine silence
A less traveled designation.

Seems so random
Yet orchestrated by a great hand
Could it be
Like as puppet master
Some ephemeral higher self
Prodding and poking
Pointing to directions
You dared not go
Pinched by pain
You don’t want to know.

Do you feel the push and pull
Of an authoritative hand
A gentle guiding
A silent light
And the pulsing prism
Through which you know
Yourself.
If the light seems to dim
Know it’s only a momentary respite
A letting go
A rabbit hole
One needed to go down
Something one needed to retrieve
Before another go around
  
To the sender of this thought
If you dwell in the shared silence
of connection
Two ends
An invisible cord
One of perfection
The other
Reflection
How to be sure of
Anything?
Only an uncertain knowing of  
A certain direction
Is showing.

Some thoughts
I would send back  
If I could, love
But never the feeling
For I am
The colors with which I paint joyfully
The words with which I speak lawfully
The chair on which I sit hardly
I was what you wanted me to be
To please
But that was never me
But a part of me

Just as well
For if every story tells a lie
How to know, how to tell
Truth be told:
Some would say
There is no truth.
Nonsense I say
If that is true
Thinking it through
Proves truth
If a lie
Proves truth still
Some tell tall tales
Some tell short stories
Some leave breadcrumbs
Along the way
Some ***** monuments
Signatories
For another day

I am
is  
Gods mighty vessel
Might you dwell there?
In the house of the seventh abode
Where the choice and the chooser are one
And on the coattails of god you rode
For awhile
As you
As me
As
Infinity.

To choose from
A potpourri of probabilities.
A thought repository.
A heavenly quarry
With a penchant for fair
A warehouse of prayer
And
When received
Then perceived
Leaving an indelible imprint
On the blackboard of spacetime
By a lofty stenographer
Replayed
To ones’ utter amazement
On judgment day

Awareness
as a field
of flowers
a ground to surround
Vivid colors all around
Shapes and sizes
Never seen
No in-between
No upside
Downside
Take no sides
Only a fire
To express desire

You are the dreamer
And the dream
Lost in a dream
Of yourself
You believe
You can be what you want to be
Royalty, celebrity, scoundrel, rat
Queen bee
Gnat
Sometimes the queen loses her head
Plays dead
What a sight
All in a daydreamers’ night

Dare you know peace  
But for only a moment
The dreams a momentary forgetting
From the shackles of separation
Have you awaken as me
Is this your dream too
Have I
Awakened as you

Infinity
To know you as me
To be free and in love
Kneeling down to your knowing.
Thoughts are the clothes you wear
The outer bank
A personal think tank
A familial thought bin
To recycle them?
To trace every thought back
Looping all the way back
To the start
Before thought
Before you
Before me
To the first shared feeling.
Love
Perhaps
Love
Then.
Like an evening prayer
You are always there.
Always
hiding behind
The clothes you wear.