Ticks in Action

I wonder if you know it, how most things start with hope, even just a spark. It is a form of Faith after all. When you hit a switch, you expect it to work, for a fraction of a beat the moment is focused, defined and ready for that hope. I wonder if you know it, the way people feel, the way they grow. I wonder if you know it, the way responses are earned.

Do you? The light slowly earns its way through the day and pleasantries and vibrations go from languidly far to near and implemented. Suddenly a faded grey becomes abruptly bright as the likeness of hope manifests into its purpose and pure wavelengths that translate in the human eye to the goldenrod of a dawn just ending.

Like, how can it be known if it is a fleeting thing? There is something all appear to seek, but the search of it is a tough one. I wonder if you know what I do not. I wonder if you know.

You might. Fleeting feelings of a time past are encompassed in the adventures developing through word and deed. Mirthful moments expand the consciousness and moments of contact slowly grow as the comfort expands into the gentle swell of camaraderie joins the acquaintances.

At some point it would develop into thinking as one. For it is in the nature of humans to seek contact, to maintain that contact brings the hearts into a conjoined beating and the electricity begins to fuse into understanding past the gentle ‘hello’.

Least of all, I wonder if you know man should not be alone. As the sun was good and gone, bodies still act towards maintaining comfort in understanding.

A gentle sway from start to finish but the moment is not lost. It is surprising the contrast in the tail ends of the arch, but nevertheless departure is deferred further and later. Smack in the center of the revolution is the gentle bliss of connection. Understandings of cause and effect become disclosed from one unto another.

Small ticks in action betray the mind. I wonder if you know it, the nature hidden under nature. I wonder if you want to. The stimulus concealed in action, linked to the thoughts not translated, seems to dodge any inquiry. I wonder if you know it, the moment the first actual level of respect set in.

Amount in perspective? Answer undefined due to fluctuating variables.

For time, constantly expanding in its forever shortening grace seems to disintegrate in definition for as long as reality is kept at bay. The louder more extreme colors of encounters past settle into the swell of methodical rhythm, heat becomes collective and tension dispelled in any reachable, workable area.

Your knowledge has superiority, integrity and reassurance. I wonder if you know.

Thoughts flow from within; they course around till finally finding the purchase enough to climb outward to its exodus.

Are the two palms of mine supposed to react the way they do? Are they supposed to reach and touch and reassure my presence to myself in the manner that they invade, persuade and taunt?

Will I ever learn what my actions may cause?

Intriguing, is the actuality that inability to function overflows the pores, all as the pendulum of time comes to a halt. Leaving the presence of this new comfort is like taking the pacifier from a distressed child. So new, unreliable, and completely foreign is this comfort, yet my mind accepts its dangers as if they have been felt out for years.

To remove that; I wonder if you know; the things that can be hidden must be so.

Me, Myself and the development of Who are new things for contemplation throughout the upcoming future as the goldenrod disappears over the horizon once more, leaving me cold, alone but one step closer to enlightenment. I wonder if you knew enough to see this coming.