I used to see the world
through jaded eyes;
my life comprised
of fear and scarcity.

I soaked up all the pain
I could retain
til nought was clear to me.

I died inside and every day,
I’d rise again to meet dismay,
but somewhere on the road
everything changed.
Now I’m walking merrily.

It is the people I have found
who show me life can be profound,
and I know now that all around me
there is poetry.

I am learning Earth and Water. Trees are experts in mindfulness. They communicate in silence, using psychic vibrations that resonate in communion with the cycles of nature. Offer up to them your presence, and they will reflect upon you their stability and coolness. At our roots we are life itself. I have learned, from the quiet, to love myself as a plant. I need water, light, air and love. Growth is a natural thing. Sustenance is deepest in its simplicity. Human love can be convoluted and strange, forming labyrinths within the psyche. Yet all space, immaterial and material, confounds us with illusions of separation. If I close my eyes, and melt into the quintessence of energy, I become the haze and see beyond seeing; choosing to feel in my heart. This is spiritual water. The mind ripples as thought, distorting the clarity of the endless ocean of energy. This is a stage in the cycle. Being mindful includes acknowledging the noise between silence. If we are to recognize ourselves, we must feel the passing waves of energy; the way they manifest in the formless void as whispers on the canvas of our minds’ eyes. There is no forcing surrender. We must embrace volatility and transience in order to let go.

Dark falls
I am mired in sludge
The wetlands shrouded by fog

My mind entrenched in haze and solitude
I grow weak  
with each step I seem to falter
exhausted in the task of moving forward
alone in the deep wilderness
covered in mud  

Ever shall I seek the sun
Forever til I’m warmed
Oh, golden rays,  
please supplant me my cold  

How uninspired
when water seeps
into coagulated dirt  

Once, there was bounty
art, in the higher reaches
of the atmosphere

Forever gazing upon the sky
into the beyond

Now all around me
there are shadows

Density of overgrowth
upon the horizon

Death where my feet meet the ground
This drudgery, though necessary,  
hurts  

I keep looking up
only to realize  
I am taking my gaze away
from my surroundings  

I’ve forgotten where I’m going

Every passing day is a lesson in gratitude, and an opportunity to expand awareness toward greater consideration of the precious and unique nature of the experience that is life. Our time here is so short. What makes things beautiful, if not transience? We cannot hold onto that which we cherish forever, and that is why we cherish it so.

I aim to understand who people are. My passion is peering into the soul of another, and perhaps being influenced by them and their mind. I want to feel the magnitude of the human spirit impressed upon my own. I want to love and be loved. I fear the deepest and most intimate aspects of being are utterly inexplicable, and that being understood and understanding others is nearly impossible. Still, I will never give up on this aspiration. I aim to articulate the concepts we cannot bring into words, and illustrate what it means to be. I will make poetry out of those things that define what poetry is. Namely, the beauty of life, particularly in the imminence of death. To be mortal is to be vulnerable. To be vulnerable is to be open to love.