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Clear on the Concept
Conceptual mind,
the clothes of Narcissus
insulating material,
fog of self-enclosure,
tempted by your sirens
of discursive thought and emotion,
I've missed so much
under your blinding trance!
Locked into the abstractions
of your infinite mazes
perceptions shut down to a minimum,
separation and distress become the theme.
But I'm no longer at your beckon call!
With blinders removed,
your luster of fake jewels
no longer an attraction.
The inherent beauty in all
now calls me to another shore,
be gone forever, confining one!
Ultimately you are illusory
lacking substance or identity,
but functionally you trap us all,
in the mines of past and future
and avoidance of the present.
From this point on,
I may call on you as needed
and not the other way around!
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