Unfoldings

Truth is just a cycle.
What's here today is gone tomorrow.
What's true this hour echos falsities and past hours' sorrows.
Change is constant and stabilitly hard to find
In an ever-shifting reality, should I even bother drawing lines?
How tempting to let it all unfold
shapless, raw, and free.
What spectacular shapes life could take
if we could only let it be.
Downward upheavals
spirals of sounds
and tantalizing agonies.
Each oblivious of the previous
yet connected somehow to the next.
What life could be without restraints,
the majesties our souls could paint.
Freed from all human constraints.
oh to dream in a world where our souls were awake!
How devious it seems to envision
life lived soley for the experience.