Wondering around the dance floor…
Moving with melodies…
Stomping to beats…
My body a temporary moving vessel for the soul…
Dark room…
Street lights…
Memories of dancing awaken the mystic and make it a tradition…
Dancing is best described my music…
Dancing is the last thought of the musician…
The first thought of the musician…
Celestial…
It’s not a religion…
It’s a medicine to forget our worries…
To see our universal origins of a beautiful race…
The rotation of the stars…
Circles…
Where abstract reality meets spirit…

The Sage is only one form of life or attitude.
There are many other attitudes that I must portray
To feel a sense of connection.

Lao Tzu wrote:
“(Sages) conduct the teaching of no words.”
Silence is special to me.
When it rests in my heart
It allows me to soar in the realm of transcendence.

Lao Tzu wrote:
“They work with myriad things but do not control.”
It’s like my alter ego of Facebook
Trying to control the thoughts of others
With my own thoughts.
In reality I’m just sharing ideas,
But sharing can take on it’s own demon.

Lao Tzu wrote:
“They succeed but do not dwell on success.”
I’m on a successful curve in life right now.
At times I’m afraid I’ll lose what I have.
Success seems to be the dream of a lot of people,
but what is success?
I’ve heard there’s a place in our brain that
Judges gains and losses.
I think my only alternative to dreaming of success
Is to simply BE.
This is said as if I didn’t need to say it.
All positions of reality are true in their own realm,
But when comparing them
What can beat the Sage?

Lao Tzu wrote:
“Too many words hasten failure.
Cannot compare to keeping to the void.”

There are people I miss.
I miss their touch and the physicality of it all.

However, now I have a profound peace
Of the presence of Baha’u’llah.
The Spirit of patience, of wisdom.
It pervades my heart
And I say to myself:
“How long will you sulk over your ex?”

I have less than I did when we were together:
In the physical.
However, I have more spirit in my heart now.
I’m stronger for putting up with your weakness,
Your vanity.

However, I see I have the same vain imaginations in me.
Will I ever fall for a spiritual person
Without needing her to be able to fulfill my chemical desires?

I want to throw away the possibility for another relationship
And cling to the idea of singleness.
But it is the incessant inclination to create offspring and secure love
That drives me crazy still.

Who will I meet?
I don’t want to desire another woman if my search will end without promise.
But I continue in my folly.

Alas, day by day my desire pulses
And it is still greeted with empty dreams.

I’m packed full with opposite dispositions
Subtle ones.

I progress towards the Maker
One dark bedroom at a time.

There is a difference
between being alone
and being lonely.

Being alone is physical
Like when you're not here
and I have no one to wake up to,
and I have no one to eat with,
and I have no one to sleep beside.

That is when I am alone -

Because you are gone
and I have no one.

Being lonely is mental
Like when you are here
and I have someone to wake up to,
and I have someone to eat with,
and I have someone to sleep beside.

That is when I am lonely -

Because you don’t care
and you never will.

My words fall upon deaf ears
I might be blinded by my love for you
but you are deafened by your love him
I write you poem after poem after poem
and you are his after just a few words

I could tell you in ten words,
what he couldn't in a thousand
and I could write a thousand words for you
in the time he could barely say ten

but you are his, and he is yours
and I just sit here, an observer
You are my muse and perhaps it is for the best...

that I sit here, the lonely wordsmith
until the day I give up and become just another lost soul
wishing things were different

and so here I am, the lonely wordsmith
writing yet another poem you will never care to read

Methinks that when I’m alone praying
I catch a glimpse of the mysteries
That lie enshrined in Thy Being.

Hints of understanding
Melodies of clarity.

When I reflect on my own station however,
I’m held back by the dust that is my body
To fully see clearly where your blessings
Stem from.

Oh it is your Word,
That hath been created from Nothing.
I guess it will forever remain a mystery.

And when I grasp for you with eagerness for more
It’s like knowing how destitute a gnat is
And how miniscule a worm is to Thy stars.

Best just let the Spirit come and go as it may.
When my cup brims over I’ll know how lucky I am.