Beauty Blinds the Bound

The heart slowly races with ease

yet the hands tremble calmly.

Blinking and staring into space

with no end, middle, or beginning

- of the stare not space.

The insignificant purpose-filled man

lays still; no motion to see within the empty moment.

Pondering on nothingness and its beauty

while breathing in nothingness called “air.”

He named it without significance or purpose.

Absently remaining in the present moment purposefully

placing trust in the continuance of existence without ever really existing.

Consciously looking without eyes to see

not knowing his eyes were blind and knowing he didn’t want sight.

Beauty blinds the bound in their own rebellion.

Terrified that life is really death and death is really

Life; Refusing to experience freedom because laying still feels

so good. The tingling numbness pushes death

while the legs remain motionless and restless without knowing

that rest exists not in stillness but in a Person.

Death always felt good as long as it was chosen

but Life chooses those who he wants.

Motion was given, purpose fulfilled, meaning explained

and none of it found in space

but in this Person and Life.