yet to be

lookin' forward to things that are "unattainable"

sometimes seems too painful to even wish for at present
'cause i unstupidly know it's absoluteness of unattainability
t'would be as impossible as jumping off earth 
an' touching the moon with my fingers' attempt to obtain it

. . . with a catch

to want it desperately, badly
beyond even of life's most wished for desire
that being for me, 
to be in that moment of youthful's greatest elation 
borne of my heart's most memorable joy
to bathe in immersion of feel 
that all is well with all, and my soul 

unfettered, unfaltered, perfection truly perceived 
an' achieved as being as real, as real can possibly be

being at ease, not of static flotation, 
merely petty's existance
just cleansingly jubilant free because,
all is well with all, and my untarnished soul

impossible for me an' or by any known power to man
whether religion, politics, metaphysics or philosophy's charm
and yet that which hampered an' suffocated is gone 
that which wanted my breath for no reason but envy, is gone
the daily threats of every move, whether thought or in physical deed
are gone and forever erased, 
with no trace of further disclosure has been guaranteed 
to every cell an' synapse of my essence, 
to yours and for all of creation's elation

the specter of reticence soured, too is abolished, 
no traces, even remotely of slightest of vague
dares of its own, or levered by force of mechanical default; 
it inexorably just cannot occur
y' see i am in a new an' entirely pure, holy and true 
universe-set, culmination's course yet to be and become