To be
Dependent
To desire

Makes these chains
I carry yesterday
Today
Tomorrow
Forever

Both burdensome
And euphoric

There is no other way around me
Only through me
Questioning, denying, accepting, wondering
Fearing, loving, coming to, and leaving

When I listen
It comes
When I allow the gales
Of the upturned hand
Of the petulant misspelled priest
Take me for granted

It comes.

My distilled reservoir
Holds only so much
Perhaps none want to see
Or touch it
Or feel it or
Even know of it.

But,
I do.

To create is to see what one can do
To create is to see what one is
Who one is
What one can be

If the world wishes to watch
You dance amongst the flaming leaves
Let them watch
Let them perhaps feel a drop
Of what you feel

Benediction is granted
Not for the ones who wait silently
But those who walk through the highest grass
Traverse through the most dangerous mountains
Drink
From the coldest, purest waters

Attend to nothing
But to love and your creation

There is nothing
On the other side of the door
But the end
Of the

Beginning.