i never knew the nuances of suffering as a blossoming lotus to be adored.
always fought against them as reflexwould have us do...yet to disobey instinct often allows for the sweetest scents of new adventure..alotting for excess has no principle in the divine... moderation in our joy..in our sadness..calculated...uncalculated...balance.

i wait for something in muted evenings..under covers lucidlysedated by the season's shift.. some manner of numbness grasps and we yet seek more of the same..and long to awash on the shores of purified perspective..standing on the edge of evolution travellinginstillness through cyclicalpersistentpurposeful reprieve and restraint.

the moment, is it missed when we ponder it too loosely, divulge its splendor without graciousness to its art... ?..we can be crass in our seeming awareness..
i petition for a renaissance in grace.
symbiosisw/quietknowing, demure&genuine... so much talk about revolution.. about truth... in so many decorateddialects... delivered with too much ego.
sell me instead an effortlessly graceful perception. one that's scent lingers as it floats by...
delivering weighted messages of adoration w/the simplistic beauty of suffering's blossoming lotus.