Reaching Out

—Ry Rose

Reaching out for a feeling

For anything real will I settle

Do we ever truly meet in the middle?

Or is it all projecting

Like film on a screen?

Reaching hand through the scene

While shadow casts in between

The lens and where the wall meets

The floor, augmented by the angle

But then we reset, untangle

And back to trance of day’s reel

Playing all around

In full surround

Taken to be real

We are the hapless stewards

Of the constant stage play

In our trance state we stay

The backstage techs

Who run the cues

So the system moves

Many layers to this show

Secrets you can’t know

Since once you do

You see through the ruse

It is the weeds though that keep you on your toes

In this circle on and on it goes

Until one spirals out

With primal shout

Experiences primordial ground

Of being, of what is in between

Things and all of these

Feelings, when reaching out ceases

You can witness first hand

A unity of all

As if being the tight ball

Just before big bang

I’ve yet to meet one who can stay in that heaven

For the 24/7

Though there are some

Who certainly come

Close, those who sustain

The awakened state

Of them I hope to replicate

For now still reaching

Sometimes feeling

A silent grasping

For clasping of hands

Or side by side to stand

With fellow beings

Whether loved ones or strangers

What would be the danger

Of stepping out to the path

Together in the middle?

The hole in us, the gap

Can be filled

If poured out first

Of pretense voided

Made again to be whole

No longer buying fool’s gold

Treasure in pocket all along

Trinkets run through fingers

Eventually no longer linger

Don’t reach for them

Let through air fall

We have it all

In own hands

Before even reaching out to fellow man

First the universe

Must you romance

Then no more reaching

For someone else’s teaching

Or touch to give you comfort

Not when with truth you have consorted

Transcendence your cohort

Post dance with illusory devils

Thresholds passed

Through vision quest

Then can you revel

In the reveal

The great prestige

Into none, after one, when two things melt

All along your hand has been reaching out to clasp itself.






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