The tightness in my chest
conveys that I need to disconnect
sit alone, on a remote landscape
hoping the sound of rustling leaves
will sync with these shakes
and ease my deathless torment

As some quiet finally sets in,
introspection begins to surface
and it gets me wondering if
these thoughts of mine
intertwine with the pain that I keep
to manifest a life of anger and delusion
draping me in shades of guilt,
forever climbing up this hill

Closing my eyes paved the way
for understanding unrivaled:
an ineffable cause
to sit with nothingness,
I spilled into a void and suddenly
stopped drowning in sadness,
finding humor in the unknown
when a feminine hand reached out
with love, telling me to let go
and she shared with me
everything I wanted to know;

“There is no path to save yourself,
only transcendence:
answers can be begged for
but until you let go of precedence
and learn to listen for each breath
the tightness will never settle
within your chest”

There once was a man from Bombay
Who enjoyed a remarkable day:
     It started at sunrise
     When the sun chose to unrise,
And it ended when Earth rolled away.

I don't know how to put this into words
It's about losing fear of emotions,
I just learned and discovered a technique,
It may sound simple yet be unique,

Instead of losing oneself in emotion,
Acknowledging them,
Then change focus with caution,
And put it on your body's landscape,
This may sound as an escape,

But it is not, it's an attention-shift,
We focus ourselves instead of drift,
We bring our attention to the now,
It keeps us present and this is how
We can acknowledge and allow,
Any emotion that comes up,

Perceive what happens in your body,
Can be as simple as your breath,
If we practice being present,
Emotions will stop being a threat.

In the "loneliness",
I find connection.
In the "boredom",
I find fulfillment.
In the "silence",
I find serenity.

Why aren't you at peace?

I don’t think there’s a God except
  I’ve sometimes felt Transcendence.

I might believe in God except
  When we’re alone, we’re wired to project,

To think that someone’s over there
  Somewhere that we can’t see. Except:

We don’t see sound and we don’t hear light
  However loud, however bright,
 
So maybe it’s perception,
  Not projection,

One more connection,
   Outside of space and time,

One more direction,
  At right angles to the rest.

And when we turn down light and sound,
  And wait with no one else around,

Then reach out with a quiet mind,
  Perhaps it’s really God we find.

The flicking fire in the hearth
pops and cracks a wispy smile
while its embers send their warmth
into the stone house for a long while.

The chimney curls with silky smoke
that snugly signals a cozy place.
The walls are paneled with old thick oak
to safely hold us in wood’s embrace.

This warm retreat’s stout red door
is made and unlocked by my inner eye.
Its stone foundation and sturdy floor
are crafted well for brittle times.

Pull up a chair and join me here
in this secret safest place of all —
it’s in each of us, in constance near:
Take some rest in your heart’s great hall.