The pilgrim’s progress

Fear and desire are chains we wear, until we become self-aware, first of all inquiring, ‘who’m I?’, which if not form, ego must die, that with the false out of the way and on making love our mainstay, eye single, pheromones mingle and we feel bliss rapture’s tingle, at first a cascading wave form, ushering currents cool and warm but then over time, bliss beat’s chime, assists us to heavenward climb. We see there’s nothing to be done, save breath by breath coming undone.