One must recondition the entire system of reflexes that constitute habit, so that neither habit nor sensory stimuli nor the influence or suggestions of environments, thoughts, desires or purposes of other people can interfere with the function or execution of your intuition or your relation between your inner self and that universal “something else.” That must come before all else — “or else,” in the final transaction.~Joseph Sadony

At the crossroads lit in garish
distress, my inner GPS indicates

a turning in my journey
no chicanery, vain query

is it so? Intuition knows
what the senses never expose

humans blithely blind
and still below our feet, all

beings meet. Our heads
are in the air, our hearts

encased, untouchable.
We’re numb to being

vulnerable. The universe expands
inside our brains like shifting

sands. We all create a web
between our ties

multidimensional space,
our intentional lace sacred

geometrical and obviously
you’re skeptical even though

you feel the sweat trickle
from stones at night

out of sight. Reality is no
word on a page, no thought

spinning. Tune in.
Squint past the neon signs

obliviating the next step as if
our only choice is to trace

the hate-pattern written in our
genetic face. The signal may

be quiet now, but heed.
The more we listen,

the more we yield to lead
in our most basic dance

where we open our arms to what
we’ve always labelled pure chance.

Inspired by: Chicanery, Sweat, Garish and Turning.


Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

2 thoughts on “Heed”

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