A circle is just that.
Perfect as it is endless and without beginning.
Where it came from or how it is spawn is a question
Comparable to the chicken or the egg.
Wisdom is the penance paid by the soul
On the moment of departure from the Earthly realm
And the Earthly body.
The journey
The purpose
The lack thereof
Are all within a spectrum of pure perception.
The soul
The heart
The being the essence
It laughs
It learns
It cries
Oh, how it cries
“How could I have been
“How could they have been
“So foolish
“So callous
“So angry
“So great
“So passionate
“So personal
The entire
experience felt
From beginning to
end
All at once
All the time
Until transcendence.
The flesh returns
to the Earth and
The soul to the atmosphere
To be
A flower
A wind
A cosmic ray
A memory
A nanosecond in the flow that is all things.
The torture of
living consciousness
The futility of it
all resigned
Not to the human
But the being:
Of air
Earth
Heat
Change
The memory of being
Nothing more
One day the
universe
The one and all
delegates
You
Me
One
Wake up
Come back
You have returned
The circle has begun or ended
In any case
Humanity is upon the being
The memories:
Time
Love
Loss
Futility
The being is ever aware
Humanity
is imminent
I will laugh
How I
will laugh
I will cry
Oh,
how I cried
I will:
Win
Lose
Struggle
A tear
The being is whelmed with it
Feeling
Emotion
Awareness
Caution and
Consciousness
Oh heaven, good heaven
A tear from a soul
However old or new
A tear from the
universe
Sending itself to be
To be
Here it comes
A tear
A life
It cries
Oh, how it cries
It lives.
Oh, how it
IS
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