Koan me
July 24th, 2021


Who is writing this?

I am.

--------

Who wrote that?

I did.

I didn’t plan it
Still a thought emerged
The seas opened
And the skies roared
The ship rocked
And an island emerged
An invite was extended
Making acceptance more tempting
Wonder if you would be mad
Confused, angry or sad
Impulsive it may be
But chronic it always was
Sometimes it’s probably easier to give in
A painless route, an undemanding path
Just need to turn the steering wheel fast  
Yet, I want a link to you
You are my invisible life vest
My anchor when the sea is violent
However, I fear that one day I’ll break free
I dread one day I’ll leave you behind and
I guess that’s what’s makes it interesting.
I'm anxious of my will to escape
My temptation to run far far away
I guess I'll just hold on tight for now
And pray for a silver lining to make its way somehow

She who lives in accordance to nature unfolding is an entity who governs with equity,
Embracing the beauties of organic origins she preserves life's virtue,
Holistically embodying the spirit of now she carries an impartial tranquility,
Restoring balance towards fickle fabrications many are led to believe.

Above the shoulders.
Under the tip,
Ferrero Roche of
The tongue
Saving a pendulum
Swinging thing
Appraised like the ocean in gentle breeze
Under a dip,
Taking care of an anchor
Delving toward the Earth and sky.

Words are distracting,

so close your mouth and open –


your eyes and your hands.

How do the leaves fall?
They fall like safety on a Sunday.

Can the petals always stray?
Petals that curl like the morning wake.

No longer will there be a favourite colour.
Hues of the sky, the rain sets and
Nourishes the pallette in the eyes.

Girls take out their bows and ribbons.
A lad says it was a sweet surprise.
In the wondrous tinted twilight
The leaves agree to hold the twinkling
Before the blooms stir.

There I plant you in
My garden for you and I
Will always return.

Tell me five things you can see.

I can see the glimmering flame of a scented candle. It's spiced gingerbread, or pumpkin spice sugar cookies, or something. The flame dances above the wick, swirling hypnotically in my vision.

I can see my cat, curled up and sleeping soundly beside me. His little chest is rising and falling slowly, and his ears flick every now and then. His paws are embedded into the fabric of my dressing gown.

I can see my lamp, shining a warm yellow light across the room. The body is a dull chestnut brown, but the shade is silvery and glinting with spilled glitter from when I was young and played with fairy dust.

I can see my ring, golden and inscribed with some Hobbit language on both the inside and the outside. I wear it everywhere. It's a bit wet. I just washed my hands.

I see the moth sitting in the corner of the room. It's waiting for me to turn the big lamp on, I think. It's very small, with its wings all tucked in into a little rectangle. I haven't named it.

Tell me four things you can feel.

I can feel the soft cotton fabric of my duvet, running slightly coarse under my fingers as I rub it absently. It's rippling slightly from my fan.

I can feel the air from my fan gently lifting my hair off my pillow, blowing cool winds over my hot neck and chilling my exposed hands.

I can feel my wall and the paint chips flaking off it down the side of my bed. I can feel a small hole in the wall, creaking slightly when I push it.

I can feel my glasses resting on my nose, slightly slipping each second. There's a wisp of hair stuck in the hinge, and I gently pull it out.

Tell me three things you can hear.

I can hear the quiet buzzing of my laptop, humming monotone beside me, its heat slightly warming my ankles.

I can hear my fan whirring, singing out its little tune as it rotates around the room, occasionally clicking as it knocks against a bottle of body spray or cologne.

I can hear my cat purring softly as he sleeps. He sneezes every once in a while, and he burrows into his paws with a small squeak as I watch.

Tell me two things you can smell.

I can smell my candle burning away, a Christmassy scent that reminds me of watching old Netflix shows with a mug of mulled wine or gingerbread latte.

I can smell my cologne, a Diesel scent that's intoxicating. It's calming, and reminds me of sitting around a picnic table with my friends, rolling dice and leaning on each other too close.

Tell me one thing you can taste.

I can ******* toothpaste, gritty and sweet mint flavoured. If I lick my lips, I can still taste a bit of the ice cream I was eating - chocolate caramel.

Please relax, and go to sleep. You're too tired. I love you. Goodnight. I'll talk to you tomorrow.