life unbound

. . . streaming days of life unbound run on and on through consciousness unleashed with the images of our minds bouncing, bouncing as if they lived without our consent - words touching thoughts touching images leaping and all coming together in our imagination... what do we build with what we hear and see and how do we release - ah, release - the boundaries so long ago learned and so well reinforced within daily life - do we trust enough to . . . trust ourselves enough to . . . do we trust our strength enough to release these boundaries and what oh what delight might we discover - what if we discover real delight? real joy? what would we do? would we run? would we be afraid? would fear constrict us . . . anew? Would we try to hold on to the unholdable, would we construct new barricades to keep this unleashed, this freedom from limitations controlled? Imagine. . .

Imagine if we did not fear. . . if we did not need. . . if we did not worry. . . if we trusted ourselves, our worth, our beauty, our pure grace... imagine if we believed all we can imagine and if we imagined truth without fearing it, if we imagined ourselves without judging, if we imagined those we love without expectation or fear of lose. . . imagine. . .

Imagine if we let all the love we feel, at any moment live, live fully and completely and let ourselves give that to one another, what gifts we could bestow on each other. . . what joy we could cultivate, no more boxes to fit into, no more walls to keep repaired and strongly in place.. no more fear of touching and loving and, oh, what if we could just delight in the sweetness of loving and touching and pleasuring without congressional sanctions or possession of soul required. . . if we believed there was enough time for loving, and if we believed we were enough to be loved truly without qualifications or requirements or expectations or needs . . . imagine . . . if being loved and loving were supreme . . . imagine breathing in such a place . . . will we ever know such joy . . . joy that is the most real the most . . . imagine all our hearts filled with joy. . .

September 2004