Come The Blossom



Distillation.
Patience.
Await, arrival, cognize.
What is the impetus of anger?
What makes Spirit arise?

The logician that resides within us
is the force that guides our hands,
and within that self-same Logic,
we create the world we command.

The mind is so fine, a reflection,
a projection, and a repository of all heard.
And on its own distillate,
we perceive, receive, and reiterate all we learn.

Why bristle?  Why deny?  Why refute?
What, in our Spirit, makes us so astute?
Is it insult to integrity, memory, or cognition?
When cast aside from furtherance; even recognition?

Ongoing dialogue is how friends are made.
Similarities and disparities become known by exchange.
Thread is the lifeblood of stories that inter-twine;
and trust in each the Other's place is how we refine.

We none know how we appear, from outside;
it takes Another to interact with, to assign or realign.
If you create a recoil, or even a raised brow,
therein, you know you've offended someone, somehow.

But also, in long-term interactions,
trust becomes the exchange.
Mutual stories, held within each other,
fruits the furtherance of how, and if, the friendship remains.

The only person you can cheapen is your Self
if your position becomes unclear,
And you feel you're just a Listening Post
for the Other's story being retold, so dear.

Saying "I know.."  "I KNOW..!" is a signal
that this is something you've already heard.
And if the other continues, ignoring you,
therein is your own Word.

Why call at all if you can't remember what's been said?
Why retell an entire story just to add a new end?
Is it your voice or mine that you want to hear?
Am I a repository against forgetting what you hold dear?

Either way, for me, any point just becomes moot.
There is no way in, or out, from which I feel included.
When keynotes of interaction become bookmarks, not exchange,
I realize I need to step aside, and change.

There is something in Me that's attracting this;
this cacophony of dissonance and dissatisfaction
A listening ear, perhaps?, or simpatico?,
easily taken for Granted as the same reaction.

But it's not the same; it's refinement.
It's seeing out, to what you allowed, and wish to create.
The key to change is to embrace what you've gained,
and letting go, allowing another impetus to take place.

~

Graphic: Two Flowers, by one 'Barbata.'

It spoke volumes to me.

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