Sestina Poem

Sitting down timidly...in that way,
your environment becomes your personal universe,
looking hardly, moreover gazing...hear a voice,
seems as though senses are floating to the surface,
kneeling steadily near that multicolored post,
hardly dipping shoe tips in the non-existent water.

yanking your leg from this bright water,
feeling as though its the only method, the only way,
clenching now, this rainbow tinted post,
body being swallowed by the universe,
fading from this hysteria again, reality surfaces.
you stop, look and listen to that little voice.

contemplating who bears this particular voice,
watching this universal liquid fade, this floral water.
reaching and clamping fingertips to the surface.
literally visualizing this organic way,
its realized that mother earth is the true universe.
meditating blissful scenarios while rubbing this odd post.

catching oneself gazing curiously at this post,
listening carefully to the sound of your own voice,
watching in wonderment, this mother earth universe.
periopheral vision gives hints of yet more mystical water,
craving to gaze once again down this water way,
willpower takes over, remaining on the surface.

Aware now, happily gazing on the surface,
still curiously gazing at this wonderment post,
oddly again, feeling its the only path, the only way,
continually listening to that distinct, familiar voice.
avoiding that distracting, flowing water.
creating and controlling your own, specific universe.

Loving, living, feeling odd in this universe,
emotions disperse and wade on the surface,
now avoiding this post and gazing at the water,
then again, avoiding the water and gazing at the post.
ignoring that suspicious little voice,
because that, my friend, is the only way.

realizations on the universe, floral patterns on a post,
senses on the surface, listen to the voices,
ultimately consumed by water, that being a fine way.