How did I get here? A lifetime of dreaming. Drawn endlessly by my resistance. My ego choir. Thunderous clamor. Fixer. Controller. And the lot. Acceptance proved to be the undoing. The sweater unknitted back into yarn. Pause. Breathe. A serenity of gladness appears as amber. Silence fills my space with a beating heart. Requiem. Mine it would appear. Sensing. Being. Beyond understanding. I touch the moon with my nose. Soft. Dusty. I no longer stand on the planet alone. She now stands in me.
No longer mine. This. Shared existence. Long before my father’s smile or Lucy’s bones. The vibration of life. Immortal. Immense. We the dancers and spectators. Jesters. And jokers. Serious in our politics. Ambitious in our expressions. Putting down our arms. A treaty. Letter. Opening my soul for the space to enter. A sober intoxication of the maiden’s beauty. I stand still. Never more alive. Patient. Feeling. Watching. Myself go sailing by. Down the Ganges. To sit with a master. A true friend.
____ Anima Treaty
the folly
of my penchants ____ dry
growing fresh grass at the dawn
and smell
like something new
earthy
feelings ____ respite
float where fatigue distilled
the masks
of useless needs
at once
weariness ____ gives way
and my heart sounds a rhythm
sturdy
where Avidyā once played
gentle
tethered yarn ____ surrender
endless acceptance of what
is
present or not
solitude
births ____ a tear
falling over the bridge of self
drama
into the current of bliss