Love’s Boundless Reach


We, the conscious, only ask
“what is sanity?”

“Those not insane,” they say.
And who might the judges be... the other those of the world?

What price must be paid by self-proclaimed standard bearers?

 
Such contempt is only made darker by their refusal

to be part of a conscience willing to:

Touch fear as viscous mutations parading life's "what ifs."

Acknowledge the acrid stench of ignorance masquerading as humility.

See arrogance as fear's ready defense against curiosity.

Accept complacency as an anthem to exhaustion.

Allowing the consideration that delirium is not void of responsiveness.

Such is the price we ask our judges pay as we continue to drink of empathy
beyond the shadows and beneath the soil that feeds all
who retreat under the bedrock of captivity.

Deeper we travel, where all is nothing and nothing is all,
the innocent state of mind some might label as madness.

But for the justly conscious…
their lives enjoin

touch to truly feel,

sound to actually hear,

sight to inexorably see,

fragrance to levitate the soul,

taste to discern sweet knows well of bitter.

Such is the discovery that love’s gift of boundless reach

dwells compassionately,

regardless of strength or weakness,

in one’s peaks and valleys.