It is impossible
To be objective
About an experience
I haven’t had
It is impossible
To be objective
About an experience
I haven’t had
Magic is a child
This unknown girl
Who casts upon
My weary soul
Unfettered glee
The guileless love
Which is delight
In briefest moment
Such sweet respite
From adult cares
Her master class
In living well
Dawn comes softly
In pastels
With a light wind
I breathe in the moment
Then hold on
To what I don’t want to let go
This peace
This sanctuary
This moving on
A quiet
I have not allowed myself
To experience
In a long time
Time
In my body
Letting the world be
Just as it is
Beautiful
And dark
Tranquil
And distressed
But just for this moment
Beautiful
And tranquil
That is enough
For the dawn
But I am neither here
Nor there
About the here
Or there
There I stand
The quiet observer
To tally the to and fro
Of lives and matter
On the move
Matters of both
Consequence
And no matter
And whichever mark I tally
Important or insignificant
Or just some passing fancy
It is all just so damn
Beautiful
I remind myself
There is always a bridge
To some place better
Than I am now
Sometimes all it takes
To cross the bridge
Is to open my eyes and recognize
I already have
I remind myself
There is always a light
To help me see
Who I want to be
Sometimes all it takes
To see who I will become
Is to open my heart and realize
I already am
The Way is not a practice of movement
The Way becomes easier
When I discover the value
In being still
rain falls
pittering the leaves
pattering the earth
nature’s sutra
gently chanted
outside my window
inside
warm
and calm
quiet mind
full heart
present in the moment
A light which burned
For ten short years
Burned thrice as bright
And yet…
unseen
Like beacons in
The darkened sky
Which lived and died
Aeons ago
But whose light
Has reached us
…Only now
Though in that beam
Cast by hands and heart
Long gone
My spirits rise
I find again
…Delight
In starry starry night
I lived my life
So very small
Now left to wonder
Shall I shuffle off
Before I ever roared
As so many others
Come and gone
Faintest whispers
On the wind
The scents of sea
And conifers
Carried on the breeze
While I
Close my eyes
Breathe in
All of existence
Gathered in a moment
But there are times
Places
To not mind being
Lost
The walls seemed sculpted
Textured
With saturated tones of
Warmth
And so I walked
Aimless
Lost in the beauty of the
Walls
Until suddenly I was
Outside
Safe, yet wanting to go
Back
Sometimes it is
OK
To lose my
Self