When I when I haven’t really touched
Anything
For a long time
Where was I?
Lost, roaming
Caged,waiting.
Content being in the shadows.

Today I need to be present again.

I called myself.

    She’s Shy; Too used to the shadows.
    Too Weary and Atrophied from Disuse.
    Rusty from Mistrust.

Ever cynical
    “No it’s just a false alarm,
      It isn’t time yet. “

I Beckon to her
      Still unsure.

I give her some Energy.
I wait.
Patience.

       “I’m here. What do you need? “

The Sun that rises must set always,
be it the Sun on Winter Solstice,
or the Sun of Six Months in the Arctic.

Nothing stays for ever.
What rises from the Ocean must dissolve and return to Itself.

Permeating your every moment,
if you look closely, you will find,
There is an Ocean underneath you
and Everything,
that ebbs and flows and eddies just the perfect way.

The decisions and choices we make
are No More than the little sways of our Hands
just as we enjoy the force of the river in a Boat
-opposing it, and aiding it.
Both give us momentary satisfaction.

The Longing stays.
The Search for something deeper
-Where the Joy is all-permeating
and Peace is Everything,
goes on.

Maybe there the Ocean is Still,
and the Treasures at the bottom shine through.
The Mind reconciles with the Eternal.

She hurt me with her words.
I hurt her with my actions.

(Did she hurt me?)
(Did I hurt her?)

She wanted me to feel her pain.
I wanted her to understand that I hurt.

And so we were hurting,
and kept hurting.

Trod to the left,
Stumble onto the right,
Falter and trip
Get up, and walk to the light

I fall everyday,
I walk everyday.

Tomorrow, if not today,
my love and I will be one.

Cobwebs lined up around me
Asleep, in a coma
In a trance within my cocoon
Dead to the world,
It sees only my skin
And assumes there's life within

I move achingly
Fighting against the bond
Every string clingingly drops by
I move, freer now, freer than ever
Every second, breaking through
Every moment brand new.

I caught a thought,
It fills my mind, my world.
It is now my obsession, my pet peeve,
My joie de vivre

My kitchen has filled with smoke,
And I have switched off the exhaust.

Heaviness, exhaustion, Paranoia.

Heavier still, unable to breathe,
I struggle.
I choke.

I remember the window.

I release the thought.
The thought is no more me.