Hypnotically

This thing,

Can't explain what,

but it's there. 

I sense its presence

It's there! 

I can't describe it

But it brings me alive

A subtle knowing. Of What? 

A mystery of awareness

Hypnotically, we touch it.

Its presence so deep, we don't see it

Lost, only then can it be seen

And when you sense it

You know it

Hypnotically entrained

Hypnotically attuned

This interpenetration 

Between consciousness and Self

Can hardly be seen. 

But its there, and what is it? 

A core, some inner knowing

Some base of truth, of vitality

Hidden and mysterious

It's power wondrous

It's essence brilliant

It's real. Its place is real. Its presence is real

It's absence spells pain

Confusion, Anxiety, Fear, and shame.

Hypnotically. We are minds hypnotically entrained. 

Yet a mystery subsides so deep, 

Inside the fabric of our brains.

Yet here we are choosing

How we want to be entrained.

On what shall we rest our thought? 

In what shall we live?

Author's Note

Basically how I understand how the 'observing ego' experiences it's experience of self and how essentially this connection is of hypnotic entrainment, a sort of 'resonance' of the conscious mind with it's deepest core of awareness: the self.