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Every Day Acts of Peace

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Friday, December 2, 2011

Los Angeles 2010: Soften My Position

I soften my position so I can understand more.
Cycles of charm, seasons of bliss.
I watch people relate without getting close,
dance around each other,
brush each other with the sharp edge of their words –
a type of dampness that builds up and eventually settles in the bones.

What has a man profited, 
if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

I soften my position so I can understand more.
Seasons of cyclical charm, holiday cheer followed by new year cordials.
I listen to people relate by sharing their nerves,
anxiously attack with verbosity each other’s sense of personal space –
a type of neurosis, which heightens to snap brain stems loose from cords of spine.

How has a human profited, 
if inner wealth remains untreasured, unearthed and unrestored?

I soften my position so I can understand more.
Cycles of bliss, cheery seasons of charm.
I smell the peopled habitual norms,
demonstrations of affection towards travelling companions of life’s journey –
a type of belief in individuality that quickens into love and hastens in the mind.

When has humanity profited, 
if in realizing dreams, becomes too busy to be kind?

I soften my position so I can understand more.
Seasonal cheer, charming cycles of hibernating snuggly within caves of time.
I taste the race of people trampling the earth to find their selves,
compliments of kindred spirits traversing the globe in spiraling numbers –
a type of travel that frenzies to intentionally lose baggage, in order to lighten the load.

Why has humanity profited, 
if the winning of liberty declares a war on peace of mind?

I soften my position so I can understand more.
Redefining cheer, charm, bliss and seasonal cycles of growth.
I touch the people within my heart,
civilizations of like-minded souls individualized into single-minded focus –
no type casting, no profiling of emotional bodies into shapeless pointless views.

Where has humanity profited, 
if in all hearts everywhere lie dormant dreams of more.

~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~
Sometime after 1821 Henri Frédéric Amiel wrote;
The man who has no inner life is a slave to his surroundings,
as the barometer is the obedient servant of the air at rest,
and the weathercock the humble servant of the air in motion.”