With so much to do
its easy to be quixotic
I am opened to the off chance of
my ideals being too idealistic

The paradigm shifted long ago
and continues to move as i sit and wait
for the beginning to end
to find its rhythm and syncopate

Breathe with me now
that is all that can be done
to inhale with the count of one
exhale to two

Congruence is only true
relative to its obtuse angle
in all I've learned from being scared
is that truth unfolds all fear tangles

Who are you
But a being ofexistencsense
Blended to see
Nothing is real
Cut down to pieces
Between sheathes that blind
Us from believing
In that which is sensed
And that which you feel

eyes closed
its dark
see some essence
maybe not

ears to hear
hear the queue
divine timing
kind of kindness
hearing you

concentration is hard
meditation is slow
body grows tiresome
where to start
don't know


why choose to be quiet
sit still
not move
time goes by strangely
focusing on you

when the words come out just right
unplanned and well timed
graceful state of being
life sans mind

thinking of god
thinking of you
what if things were different
i'd be different too

need not
want none
many forms
to explain the one

need not
but one
walk this earth
miles of air water and dirt
between the moon
and the sun

why choose to be quiet
to sit still and not move
time goes by strangely
all paths lead to you

why choose to be quiet
to sit still and not move
time goes by strangely
when focusing on you

why choose to be here
right here and now
life unfolds so strangely
becoming silent
i hear you loud

to those who feel
from family and friends
life events
some have it easy
those who have it easy may be worse off
what is good anyways

what do i know of your life verses my own
how am i to know of your body and home
life experiences
all lead to expression

nature and form
nothing is normal
everything is happening for you

love is letting go
of all the things you
used to love

emptying heart space
for more light
for more love
for more of you

what will i do with all this room?

life is a strange thing
filled with experiences
all i can do is work on myself

beneath this body
our souls are eternal

how we feel now
is here
tomorrow is unclear

i don't want to fight to survive
but sometimes you do
hands are dealt
so we deal
another round around the dharma wheel
i wonder sometimes if i still believe in karma
i wonder sometimes of what is truly real

next time around things may be different
next time around things may be the same

when we begin to unidentify with this body
people becomes props
to teach me that money isn't everything
instructions aren't for all eyes
books are authors ideas
that life passes by
when you begin to take notice

reading through poems once
is like forgetting a new neighbors name
upon handshake
i may not know your name
but i will not forget your face
for at least a month or two