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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2065171
by J. Lee
Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #2065171
The world will go 'round regardless of our efforts to control this.
The delusion used to dwell in such a visceral state
That the heart would not be keen on passing blood
Past the scene of dismay.

Its convoluted portrayal of the glitz to become
Was a flavor strong enough to taint the cells
Shot down the veins.
Until eventually
The cells found a new route altogether.

Reimaging like a machine.
Reproducing as they always have and will.
To copy right, and be written in the gut of each function.

There is no copyright on this
No receptor too full for the author to induce
No allowance to claim originality
Though no end to the possession of anything.

To be of our self
We watch the sun conquer the night each dawn
Yet where is its struggle?
We make it so.

To be of our own device.
We watch the seas destroy our lives and dwelling.
Yet where is its malice?
We, again, make it so.

To be of our own will.
Gifted, as though we ever owned anything before we are caged in the earth,
As a celebration for our life.
In a sealed box,
So we can be protected.
As though returning to the earth is a violation.
As though we own this body.
We, and only we, see this as respect.
We make it so.

The heart continues to choose its rhythm
Offered through the intricate web of direction
Built into each discussion from within our solid appearance.
As we practice our dominance over its state.
Or honor its existence and attempt to soothe and prolong its beautiful presence.
Entitled, as we are, to its presence at all.
Attached, as we are, to the beliefs we hold
That this qualifies us to be whatever we are seeking.
Healthy; Happy; Strong; World Conscious; Nationalists; Religionists;
This list.
We make it so.

The delusion used to lay in such a visceral state
So deep within what I believed to be me.
I made that so.
I no longer wish to make anything
So much so that I am willing to give up everything
To enjoy what the author writes
And the musician sings
And the gusts blow
God makes this so.

© Copyright 2015 J. Lee (printit at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2065171