A mouthpiece can’t be held responsible for what it’s reporting.
It can only state what its eye has seen.
A hand can’t be held in judgment for complying with commands.
It can only do what the soul attached plans.
An ear can’t be held in contempt for the message it bears to the mind between.
It can only report what’s within its hearing.
If I can accept all of these things as a matter of being.
What else have I been misdirecting with no mercy?
How have I allowed systems operating my surroundings,
to condition me according to rules,
that have no alliance within me?
I will only respond to higher currencies…
beginning with these directives,
I state them universally within me.
I am only responsible for repeating the lessons resounding within me.
I am only subject to what comes naturally into my being.
I am only compliant to what breeds joy, love, curiosity,
and all other intrinsic human needs.
I accept that I am only as good as the worst contents within me.
I accept it’s my God-given duty to cultivate these and become more beautifully.
I am only as resilient as the most greedy stomach I feed.
I am only as sturdy as the most shattered fragment within me.
I am only as fast as the slowest of my feet.
I am only as strong as the weakest of the bones in my body.
I am only as funny as the seriousness I dam deep.
I am only as wise as my most foolish insight I keep.
I am only as bold as the deepest fear I’m housing.
The irony… it is beyond me. It is above me. It is beneath me.
It is everything, as It becomes everything to me, and then, It is unleashed through me.
I, nothing more than a satellite for transporting its frequency.
And It’s, my Everything…
Give me a minute to wrap my mind around this.
I am as beautiful as my most ugly thought.
I am as tangible as the most illusive dream I’ve sought.
I am as real as the fakest narrative I’ve bought.
I am as big as the net I’ve been tossed in.
I am as pure as the moment before.
I am as twisted as the worst state I’ve been caught in.
This brings hope to me, because each of these has become a pearl to me.
A priceless gem, a thing of wonder and beauty.
A stain of rust among golden surroundings,
to remind me, I too can combust,
in the right company,
it might consume all of me.
Imagine. I am the house.
I am the party.
I am the guests.
I am the faces I meet.
What facet do I choose to be to each?