Conversation with me

When I thought I know it all
Am ready for almost any emergency call
The rush. The brush. The Crush
The blow that could have slowed
Over all the feelings of fear and pain
Love being not on the list of gain
I just met him who I had met many times
And knew it was him and I don’t know why
And I really don’t know why
But impromptu I call him my

I don’t really have logic
Or a reason or basis to flick
No nothing, sheer pure gut
Sixth sense or whatever you want to call
To someone it may be ridiculous
Just not done or the biggest mistake
Or unadulterated shift of mind
What they don’t see is .No.
Not the eyes .Not the heart
Its not in the mind too
Neither the words nor actions
Tut tut they are looking at the wrong places

Its so damn simple, yet difficult to decipher
To look and read your own diaphanous soul
That has traveled across centuries and worlds
Has a pool enough to submerge the planet
If you can even read a bit and touch its core
It will divulge snippets and scraps and oddments
that can code the call
Then when I know it all
Why do I restrict or stall
Or feel the impact
And trust the only fact
And the reason I know
I am attached, my soul is free
I get scared to loose
My soul - I hear you laugh and deride and scoff
It replies back - How can you separate one
And I repeat - How can I separate one

Unreasonably yours'