Relax. {poetry}
{source}
If you never came back…
The wonder crawls in through my ear
from something somebody said.
Would I be able to survive
without my neck to support my head?
An integration of two worlds,
the elixir of love,
navigating life
intertwined
regardless of hiccups, pitfalls,
and ominous clouds
announcing the storm looming above.
I will go anywhere with you,
the immortal bond
transcends the clasp of our hands
connecting to the heart I wear on my sleeve,
pain blows through the wind
at one time or another,
a distant soul is yearning
for a fantasy beheld within
to take them
so they can leave.
The abstract ideal
of all that one does not have,
unsatisfied desire
deceiving the perception
of one’s current possessions.
The mentality of existence
regarding the projected outcome,
the product of one’s life,
sends one on a perpetual search
for a fork-shaped knife.
Looking outside the self
for the possibility of
what could be
limits the ability
to engage
with the present (of) reality.
The probability of your eyes meeting mine
amidst the chaos of a public place
is infinitesimal.
The destiny of the stars
to cosmically compound,
never questioning their existence
nor the companion they have found.
Powerful luminosity,
the force of two.
The backdrop,
nightfall’s obscure hue.
Two lovers, supine on a hill,
innocuously admire this happenstance view.
The earthful gaze into space,
how two ones
fatefully turned
addition back into itself,
equaling a unit of one
along an arbitrary trace
of the cosmic face.
Words are the numbers constituting
the divine calculations of love
defying what one thought possible
when resisting the familiar urge
to seek explanation
for the operation of time above.
Is it an accident-
to be as we are?
A choice?
A feeling?
Or are we fallen stars?
Gravity, centripetal force,
The calculations of physics
Involving one’s mass.
The chemistry of U + I
simply esoteric
such as the bond between
the ubiquitous nature
of H 2 O;
blind acceptance of a fact
To dive deeper?
A fruitless search at that.
The ceaseless challenge
to objectify the invisible,
to highlight the definition
of the unseen —
a man-made endeavor
perpetuating
the meaning of meaning.
Space,
outside of Earth,
concrete originates here.
What we know has developed
from the sands of time,
a fragile combination of
resources and minds
solidifying ideas
into matter
perceived by our eyes.
Stars,
the seeds of ideas
having yet
to manifest on this terrain;
Infiltrating an opening
into the heart space,
receiving information
from the celestial domain.
Close your eyes.
Release your thoughts,
Breathe into the mechanism
that transforms oxygen into
a carbon byproduct.
Your inhabitance is purposeful,
your being unique.
Value the intangible talents;
the dimples of your smile,
the dance in your feet.
Breathe out and radiate
the feelings invoked by
muting the screen of
the revolving world.
Relax into the rhythm,
even against the tides,
cleansing the system of social impurities,
holding you, until you arrive.
Where?
The place you are supposed to be,
although you want this to make sense too.
However, definitions do not literally exist.
Meaning comes from the experience of
a life’s dedication to
discovering one’s truth;
the individualized calling
to accomplish all
you have come here
to do.
Learn this
and you will know what it means
to relax into the rhythms,
navigating through illusions,
getting lost,
before arriving,
at your long-forgotten dreams.
***
Courtney Hunter is a wanderer from Southern California. She has been writing since she could formulate thoughts into words at a quickly ripened age. She lived in Spain and taught English after having returned to Los Angeles with aspirations as an artist. She now writes about this life and that, and the importance of storytelling on The Plot Tribe. In her free time, Courtney indulges in the senses of cuisine, meditates on the beach, breathes into Yoga, and goes crystal-hunting. It is a part of our nature to connect with others and take part in new experiences; she lives by this, as much as she can, each day.
***
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