You’re constantly told to move forward
Move on to the next thing
Whether that be a day or a new chapter in your life
And I understand, I should keep moving forward
But all this moving is making me sick
I can’t stop it

We are all bound
       by the stings of fate,
       interlaced between actions.

Each one tying us
      to another's knot.
Interlaced within times connection,

We can pull upon every
        lace, but in the end
        we all connect to another.

The supposition of a higher power is fruitless
It plays with the curiosities and leads the faithless blind
The “cognizant” host of this paradigm shall always find more questions, the hunger never tempered
Is it not in our nature to seek and desire?
Or are we guided by the hand to a place where we actually remember who we are instead of trying to discover who we are
A challenging thought I suppose, but that’s exactly my point
If we suppose we are to assume and if we are to assume then we get lost in a whirlwind of just trying to be right
What if we just stopped saying what if?
I’m not asking for omniscience because that would take the fun away
However, I envision a world someday living fully in experience and divine synchronicity
Where the eb and flow of every vibration is just a ride for us all
And enlightenment will follow
I cannot suppose that the great mystery is random, nor can I suppose there is a higher power
I must Feel it
Breathe it
Become it
Every dimension, every space and intention must be divine
Until I’m living the way at least a little
Until I’m perceiving as one would for even a moment
I will remain fruitless
When we practice the art of the divine, supposition disappears, faith is resolute, wisdom thrives, and the world gets a bit brighter

Every thought is
         my guardian angel,
when I ever think  
of contradictory roads..

I walk upon the ropes of
           life's consciences
learning that every motion
is my eventual life line or fall.

My principles of morality
       will echo on every verse of
my life. Its a yes or no or maybe..

I was a clock always on time,
          but under the surface
     I was winding down.

Till that finite cog cracked
      And my face became static.

I was now just an empty shell
                    with no time to tell.

Diana of the woods and
Wild animals, as swift as winds
That rustle leaves, her muscles are as
Mighty as the brown bear, her legs are as
Steady and strong as the wolf dog that yips
At her swiveling hips, her motion as graceful
As the rushing rivers, yet as fierce as a tornado’s
Spiral, pouncing, bounding, she cuts the air as sharp
As the arrow that springs from her bow, eyes transfixed
On her target—

Diana, goddess of the woods and
Wild animals, captured in black bronze
And displayed atop marble like a prize won.