To which THAT one awakens: it is not just the “me”
but the flesh that covers my modesty / we call
it humanity | as though each flesh of island
requires labels to offset such nonsense
as separatedness!
Being born is a moment; first steps then
tears and fears ensue /burst of self awareness
and as you knew: life is not short and you can
truly fly if you do not forbid something
indescribably precious for, “which no one ought
to see …”
i say life is not weird
but the human condition
the ribbon of perception told billions
of times within the lie of separatedness.
If i am alone then 7 billion too —
silliness! One is all and all is One
and all other perceptions shadows dancing
upon the walls!
:: 01-16-2016 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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