Without knowing
the simple
puressence
of our being
we just might spend
an entire
addled lifetime,
believing
in a psychologicself,
– in the current
and changing
weather conditions:
partly cloudy,
with a likely chance of thunderstorms,
the one
who’s been trained …
– to react
bewildered,
by childhood events
the world’s conditioning,
by biochemistry’s
bumbling
flights of folly

The surest way
to know
the easy unrestraint
of purescent nature,
our perennially present
and essential
climatic constitution:
clear, 72 degrees
with bright, blue skies,
& a constant
of contentedness

is in silence…

in the meditative state
of communion
with things
otherwise,

unknowable