Press on

As a stone in the sand I'll wait for it patiently.
The bright hazel eye of the storm always located so conveniently.
It becomes my firm center where I can always be grounded.
Shifting dimensions, all reasoning seems to me unfounded
Stumbling through declarations I enter the orbiting house of mystery.
No more will I fumble through the warmth of blind sympathy.
Instead searching for a long lost sound.
Able to remove jewels set deep within a crown.
Hollow footsteps wandering creating a sphere.
Washing away time making life bright and clear.
Time has dissolved, making long years seem waifish.
The last constraint keeping man the safest.
As I clumsily rotate resonating with this space.
My mind begins melting; I'm slowly losing face.
Replacing itself with the memory of now.
Revealing each dimension as a face in the crowd.
Out of all our possessions not one is a useful tool.
All the technology begins to make us all fools.
Can we decide for ourselves when were deaf, dumb and blind?
How long that we'll stand here all on deeply buried mines.
Gathering the tendencies and eating them like food.
Using the destruction to set the oscillating mood.
All that we know dispersed into the unkown.
Just to be collected in space by a circling drone.
Jumping with no chute from this land of mystery.
Falling swiftly from the numbing thought of apathy.
Back into the eye, the center of the storm.
The most beautiful place that never holds one form.

{T}