ferns grow in the shade

i want to stop justifying my existence

who would i be without judgement?

free

wings spread

lifted

carried

by inspiration

breath

fed

from within

mirrar...miraculous...to see

to feel

weightless

a flower blooming on the sofa

right on time

not earlier than others

nor later than anyone else

no comparison at all

allowing the waves

to carry me

to rest

crest and fall

like each breath

allowing the rhythm to be

relaxed into what is

night and day

up and down

fast and slow

empty into full

active until resting

so the wheel

at the top

now under

it is

all perfect

all the same

the snail

the racehorse

the pace isn't made by me

the sun's light never dies

even darkness is just a shadow....a sign

of light

there are no shadows in absolute darkness

without judgment

i enjoy the shade

it's cool green moisture

the ferns and the moss grow here

it's kind

when i don't run away...

no choice

no choice

the grass is growing

no choice

how fast or slow

no choice

it swoops and bends and swirls

and waves and drops its seeds

no choice

it ripens

and gets eaten by the birds

i can not see

where every strand of grass ends up

and ends its life

i cannot see the nutrients dismantle

and feed the next young tyke

no choice

i can not see

where

my son has gone,

his body laid down too

the leaf leaves the tree at a moment in time

when?

when?

no choice

by me

orchestrated by something

so much larger than myself

i can not see

where he has gone

i really can not see

an actual cause for tears,

evidence,

i can not find

for what i can not see

is where i

am blind

a mystery

is but waiting

beyond the bend

in my mind

my son has gone walking

walking

walking

beyond

the corners

of my mind

no choice

the tune is playing

in the sunlight

throughout time

who thinks he holds the reins

to his life upon this earth

is misguided,

not the Guide,

that predates

and transcends

his little birth.

no choice

the beauty

of the raindrops

that fall

and fall

and fall

why why why

is there any difference

between my son

and

all?

would you stop the earth from turning?

the seasons to reverse?

would you stay a man from dying

and lay on him

your

curse...

(your

fear

of

death...)?

what on this planet

is

eternal

and will stay?

blessings to every single thing

as it passes

away

every moment

every moment

every

m o m e n t . . .

thank you

dream world

Joy

is an image

i have made

a fantasy

in some far off place

where she does not exist

a false image

an identity

and this one

doesn't match up to the one

i have also made up

sitting on the couch

dream world

comparing images

and suffering

because

oh woe

they do not match up

something is wrong...

and all the while

i

am

a waking flower

sleepy child yet,

but on the path,

and waking

as she does

not according to some ego plan/script/identity:

enlightened being

spiritual minister

clockwork

robot

without fault

no,

this girl

still wears skin

and bones

and vomits even

she eats

and pees

and laughs

and cries

and hangs on

and clings

and sometimes

something opens wide her eyes

her mind

sees expansive horizons

beyond the bend

out of sight

of the ego's claws

sometimes

she rests

flight arrives

soars

on reality

on the unity

of Truth

but let her now see

she has fallen

into the trap

once again

of fantasizing

she were an image

different than she is

oh, to strangle

what she is now

to block the flow

of love to her

in anyway

is the very nail

the very mistake

that holds her

to

this skin