consciousness is not for sale.
it's not simply a tagline that you can apply
to your department store brand name.
it's not a crystal placed in the palm of each of your friends' hands.
nor can it ever be an attempt at playing someone else.
consciousness is not a consumptive jewelry piece.
it's not a noun or a name that you can
haphazardly fling at the most innocuous places
hoping that it will stick
like glue
to shiny, reflective surfaces.
consciousness is not a sound bite added to the frame
of your conscious media. it's not a thing to be purchased, another item to have.
it doesn't tout a green economics and consciousness is not found in your back pocket.
it's not a gimmick to consume
or a habit to have.
consciousness is fluid and certainly dynamic.
it's not the robotic flatness that we are taught to believe.
it's in how we do and what we say.
it's in how we allow and what we notice.
it's the quiet stillness pecking at your resolve as you stand naked
in front of the streak stained and fogged mirror.
consciousness is the dog that you left behind
when you fled your ex-boyfriend's chaos.
it's the dew laden grass on a misty morning after
you knew that your life would never be the same.
it is a beam of the sun's light, as the ray
falls upon your toned and tanned biceps. it's the lightness that flickers between our eyes,
as we gaze past the melding of past, present and future
consciousness is the cry that you allow to escape
from the deepest pit of your psyche as you lay warm and nestled
in the dark of your cave. it is the sweetness that lay between two people -
the silence thick with all that can never be said. it is the womb, heavy and full with life.
consciousness is pregnant with possibility - with the belief that what has never been done, can bee.
consciousness is love, without the complication of trying to understand. meaning, like this moment, just exists. hence, we call it
existence.
