To give thanks, for the real things.
That captivate me, that touch my soul.
The enthrallment that is my world.
Broad and pure, with no limitations.
I thank you all, for such a glimpse.
For this Grace,
that shrouds and protects me.
And I repay through this work.
Knowing, can only lead to mere knowing.
Things, not of this world, of another time, another place,
where this and that, and him and her, were not a thing at all.
Saint Peter told me we’d be friends
Along the waters edge, with a sense of pride, I fill my glass.
Sipped from that cup of kings and carried with me the knowledge.
From creation, through existential crisis, and to this stillness.
Mind, heart, body, soul as one.
Healing, feeling, being, not thinking.
And in this moment,
I’m not special at all.
An ant in a rat race; one of many, for a millennia.
“Its okay, I’ll only be gone a minute now”.
Undressed, sun-drenched, across the lake, we take our time here.
Sought, spent, sent for, speaking in tongues now.
Strength in numbers right? Oh this charade!
All this time, I’ve been taking my time.
Some momentary sanity, this silent lucidity.
Swiftly crept, slightly inside.
Left one, to assume the role.
I’m on my own now,
this sailors tide.
Scholar to the game now,
this infinite wisdom,
oh that wives tale.
Keep me calm now,
my head’s stretched with this unholy debt load.