That Loving Feeling

That feeling you have
In the midst of your chest
Which makes you want
To embrace someone or something
Is what everything
Is ultimately made from
The immaterial within, throughout and all about
The material
.
The silent, receptive stillness of omnipresent space
The rush of excitement
Including each other
In swirling form
.
The only good reason
To do or not to do
To be or not to be
Anything or anyone
The love of life itself
.
Ignored by those objectively minded
For whom all that matters
Is what can be costed and counted
Then trashed
At the end of its usable presence
.
So when you regard with dismay
This world as it is today
And ask what has been lost
In the quest for material gain
You know the refrain
That cries out in sorrow and pain
From the lamenting heart
Which is anything but self-righteous

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