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Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #1464851
The Poet longs for the euphoria that meditation used to bring.
Stuck

We believe—
in our minds
at the least,
yet we fear
and we fear the act.

To act exposes us
to tender places,
unphysical,
but there inside,
and all around.

We believe,
to act
will save the earth—
at the expense
of hate and fear.

The act we fear?

The movement
of the moment;
to live alive
and face the dead.

The dove’s song
comes along with
the message in my mind,
but maybe not my heart.

Where went elation?
The rapture gone, and
gone: exhilaration.
Somewhere hidden: joy.

We believe—
yet we fear
the love we unleash.

The love unleashed
can burn
and bleed.

We believe—
yet we fear
the act.



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This poem is from "Bottle in the RiverOpen in new Window.
                     about a Poet's journey down a river, chasing a bottle
                     tossed by the fingertips of "that I am."
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Written within the parameters of the theory of "MultivalenceOpen in new Window.




© Copyright 2008 Dan Sturn (dansturn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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