The heart beats slower laying down
Weight of grave dirt heavy underneath
Sleep of the dead being a rapid rest
Fills the now with purposeful breath

Oh, how hard it is
to right your wrongs.

Needing perfect placement
like words in songs.

Or words in psalms.
Would you listen?

Instead of drowning
in lost visions.

As long as you know you’ve been gifted..

time to better..not just fix it.

Then your the world’s prescription.

Life has been...
Rough, to say the least.
I feel lost,
I feel like I have no use.
I feel like this until...
I am holding you.
Staring into your eyes,
Nothing going on.
Just us,
Looking at each other,
In the near-darkness.
And I realize, my purpose,
Is to be here,
With you.

It begins as a beige cylinder
Atop a slightly smaller beige cylinder
Upheld by a flat foundation
A beige circle
Equal in size
To one side of the smaller cylinder
Spin spin spin
With gentle fingertips
Until I reach 3/4 of an oval
Attached to the larger cylinder
Instead of closing on itself
It fuses with the wall
Melting into one piece
Speckled with black scrapes
And brown stains
Proof of its use
In ways intended by its creator
And maybe a few that weren't

Jumping off a cliff into crashing blue waves
Sledding down a hill of powdery snow
Running across a golden horizon
Spending time with people I love and faces I know
Listening to soft melodies of music
Even doing dull chores
Planting something new
Breathing in the misty, fresh outdoors
Just simply laughing
Climbing up an old pine tree
To live each day of life
Every moment is the reason for me

There is time for thought
During this daily walk
There is no need to achieve
No need to count steps
Or tally blocks or miles or minutes
Leisure is on-deck
Time away from work
Time away from expectations
Time when the only eyes evaluating
The steps, the distance, the pace
Is you

Pressure mounts step by step
Shifting attention from the trees
The falling leaves, the birds,
Returning to self-centered issues
Returning to thoughts that evaluate
Judgments about the past
Become concerns for the future
Has enough been accomplished
Has enough been stored
For what is to come

Current experience happens
Yet passes by
Without appreciation
Without being savored

Being becomes anxiety
Being becomes guilt
Being becomes non-being

The question is repeated
Constantly nagging
“Why is it so hard to become
Aware of the present
And why is it so hard to stay
With the moment?”

Will life be long enough
For one to accept
That this is good-enough
That this moment
Is life and it is good enough
Being here, being now

How can I taste thee
When I have never mouthed thee

How can I smile at thee
When I never know what joy is

How can I listen with glee
When my heart has never opened up within

How can this touch moved me
When I have no none, any memories

How can I have ever lived
When am here yet have never been

Do rhetorical questions serve a purpose?