July 8 by The Running Son
It’s time I introduce me, myself.
Hi, I’m Jim. Glad to meet you.
Maybe we met before. I wouldn’t know,
there are possibilities though,
interesting the directions this could go in,
Perhaps we met
but couldn’t know a friends face
from a strangers soul. And so it goes
in this particular time, universal age,
space or unfortunate case
for a self we dwell in, or sin we sow.
It’s quite possibly true. I say possible
because I only grow
in directions of impulses I know that I know
for sure are golden and prospect-able; revelations
and surging illumination that corresponds
to emanating signals
from my intuition
form The Ground. Yes,
I hear Her wholly, I hear You,
that old worldly-wise presence and authority, the Cosmic Sound
The Everything and All.
Could anyone but She ever know me?
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