Field of consciousness

And so the saving grace for some
is pretending there is love
because in the manner of pretence
all things are possible.

I can pretend I am a warrior
with swords and fighting “things”
and do battle with opponents
that never can be seen ~ or
I can be a worker
in fields of consciousness
and grow the finest roses
blood red for loving you.

I can turn my face around
from a world that disregards
my wishes and my needs
but I cannot and I must not
expect my meaningful
to be plucked from a garden
planted by another.

But I have my own garden,
my thoughts, roses, love,
somewhere in the fields
of my own consciousness
with no essential border
or trespassers beware
affixed to nowhere.

You can come on in
anytime, my friend,
but I know we have this “thing”
for living between borders
and so there is no cake,
no boiling kettle, me,
waiting for visitors
in my field of consciousness!