time to vomit

the price of peace
is materialism

is this what you really want?

fabric by the yard sale,
old worn out washing machines
in the land filled
over the brim stone
with stuff?

stuffed to the max
with stuffing
on Thanksgiving?

will the stuffed belly
really ever make you full?

isn't it about time to vomit?

to throw up your hands,
your cash cows
into the air?

that Emptiness
can once more
be Open
to the wind?

that breath isn't seized,
but free
to be
what it is
where it is
when it is?

isn't it time to see
that no box
can ever hold
Everything
outside it,
and the more
you try
to collect the stars
the less light
you will shine?

for there is
only One
pure Source
of Illumination

and that lantern
is You

to lay down
everything you own
is HOW
the light gets out
into the world,
that you
can actually SEE
and FEEL
the Radiance

a light
locked in a closet
beneath a thousand
shopping sprees
is not gone out,

but it is
unseen