Sublime

Stuffed in a paradigm,
Weakness
Of the heart.
How well
Do you know me,
From where do I start?
Pulling down frames
Of hard lines, unseen.
How can I linger and
Fret down the seam?
Is this real life,
A world of great wonder?
Or is it just a mirage
To quick and to blunder
Growing quite strange
Warm invites gray.
Holding in, and breathing out
Entering into
This crazy game.
Blurred fractions of a flower,
Fuzzy blue and deep green.
Wishing and hoping
Slightly to seem.
Like the whole world is ending,
Birthing anew.
We flounder and talk;
Time is askew.
Boxed in places
Shoved
And blessed
And hugged.
No boundaries, worries, or chlorine smell
Can ever tell.
Wishing I was thinking
Of taking
One long, lasting stride.
Falling into sections.
Labeled, slapped, and strung.
Cloth and warmth
Abundant,
The breathing, blaring sun.
Keeping in
What’s balanced.
Throwing out what’s not.
Everything has come this far
Without knowing what was sought.
Beaming, bright, gleeful.
Homey, fit, cheerful.
Soft, squishy, fearful.
Being all.
Free and blameless.
Full and near.
Transcend beyond
All space and structure.
‘till grace shows up
At a very crucial time.

Was it all planned out?
Or maybe
Just sublime.