“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Thursday, August 29, 2019
Well-being
I choose not to spend pennies of thought
for the benefit of others opinions
who have made no personal investment
into the savings of and for the consideration of
a profitable shared account wherein there is only one
authorized signatory and not that of the opinionated.
Buddhist principles encourage us to
'Let go' of attachment but 'Hold on' to
your spirit, stick with it, lean in-
to the fall, don't hold your breath,
all obstacles are opportunities.
I clear some space and feel smaller.
I create conflict and make a mess.
I clean the slate, gently blowing off all
calcium deposits thin as chalk.
A moment ago, I slept,
Now I know why a funeral is called a-wake.
I have lost it and found a-way
back to the well-
being-whereby
change was inevitably tossed in.
Painting by Kazimir Malevich [in Public domain], 'Woman with pails' c. 1912.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
And then...
Change is like that strong smell of cut grass or chopped wood that stops you still. Patterns, a symbol can be an illegible sign, at first...
-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
Today seems like a good day to burn a bridge or two. The sky resembles a backlit canopy with holes punched in it. In California...
-
This world is not for breath for feelings also come and go. As hard and light as Push and pull Go. Busy hands and bees-electricity, alter...
No comments:
Post a Comment