making sense
out of
something having
nothing to do
with truth
is all the more human
that it is
fatal
diminishing
placing our trust
in someone
being unable
to perceive
our full dimension
is diminishing every possibility
to bear fruit
consciousness
unable to discern
the emotion
flooding both consciousness
and body
all too aware
it will rule the mind
for as long as it has not
been brought
to awareness
decay
holding on
to
letting go
while decay
is decomposing
and autumn
gloriously
unfolding
moist
moist mists
marvellously
moulding
memories
of mystery
into morning glory
edge
the edge between
glory and shame
is a thin line
drawn by consciousness
fear of failure
when fulness
unfolds
fear of failure
is metamorphosed
into freedom
severed
when the connection
to creativity
has been severed
the source of inspiration
is running dry
leaving space for imagination
to overrule creation
acts
when our acts and words
spring out of fear
only destruction
can be
the result of it
though
on the other side of fear
is a grace to be found
beyond
what any imagination
is able to provide
alone
never
again
alone