TempleOfMyFamiliar

Something has gathered within me
Something which sees too clear
Listens too well
And feels too much
Some strange portion of myself
Tracks me relentlessly
Turning as I turn
Borrowing my every mood
To find its own expressions
Something is living
Behind these thoughts
Beholding the circumfrence
Of lives within lives
With sustaining clear attentions
That entering into these legs
Rises to walk about with me
Entering into these hands
Uses ways and skills
Known only to an artisan
Revealing that clear handwriting
That is the soul of me

Something is breathing through me
Something is rustling within my being
Like leaves before a storm
Swirling in a flurry of changes
That go well beyond the image
And far into the specters
Of my visitations
Something that is
Not so much the story
As it is the telling of the tale
To which this fleah has gathered
Much the same way
That all dwellings
Attract inhabitants
Leading me on my journey
Into the labyrinth
Of the human heart
Where who we have become
Contains all that we were
Mingled among the
Countless dualities
Of our possibilities

Something is speaking through me
Something is talking in this voice
From beyond the outer edges
Of my authority
And my fears
Where that multiplication
Of self takes place
Along so many lines
And those extensions
Of our dreams
Freed from time and space
Become the best parts
Of ourselves
For nothing in and of itself
Ever expresses anything
Left alone
It is the relationship
Between things
That give us all
Our meaning