In this life, I have had my struggles—
Mankind’s abuse, intolerance, wars, and corruption.
And no different were the personal aspects:
love, home, happiness—
All fleeting, no peace, within or external.

Then, I found you.

At first, I sought tranquility—
An ear to bend, a friendship perhaps.
Yet, you needed serenity, a peace within.
So, it was I who lent the ear, the shoulder, the words of understanding.

In this endeavor, I saw in you a trampled blossom—
Damaged, bent, a bit broken, but not a loss.
You just needed someone, anyone, to care,
To show you the light through the dark.

So, I listened, I nurtured,
Shown light, provided warmth,
Fed you, and caressed the soil with tears,
Until you felt whole again.

To be clear, I didn’t fix you;
I didn’t mold you.
You were whole, you were full of worth.
I only let you see what I see in you.

In turn, you saw me, as I saw you—
Someone discarded on the refuse of life.
Imparted, nay, reciprocated, the kindness you had received,
Knowing that I, like you, lay scarred and injured, but not a loss.

Tranquility and Serenity—
Words often interchanged,
But both have meanings that aren’t quite the same.
For one is peace in your surroundings, and the other is peace from within.

You cannot seek one
Without discovering and embracing the other.
Two sides of the same coin, like Yin and Yang,
Always seeking balance.

You guided me,
Lighting my way through the darkest moments.
I held steadfast, unwavering—the rock you needed,
A new foundation to build upon.

I confess this truth to you,
As you have given both, reciprocal,
As I have given unto you.

Time will tell.
This story has not ended.
It is still being written—
A journey to destinations unknown.

And all because,
I FOUND YOU.

You are,
The wind in my breath,
The sun on my face,
The love in my heart,
The scent in my nose,
The whisper in my ear,
The sweet caress on my lips,
The embrace in my arms,
The ground beneath me,
The hand in my hand.
You are all of these, and more,
My dragon, my tiger, my protector, my love, my friend, my partner, my Yin to my Yang.
Two parts that make a whole,
Inseparable and yet contradictory.
Self-perpetuating.
Being apart from you is one of the most difficult parts.
Yet I will endure.

I feel like it’s better to listen than talk
And faster to run, though it’s wiser to walk
A field to be tilled
Or a cup yet unfilled
For this is the way of the unsculpted rock

Regardless of what one believes
The universe waxes and breathes
While ebbing and flowing
And always unknowing
The Tao, without purpose, achieves

There’s a force with a name known by none
It’s referred to by some as the one
And it can’t be dismantled
Nor spoken or handled
But through it all things will be done

I think, for a matter of fact.
I feel, I project, I confide, and of all things I hope.

With that in my mind, I reflect and coincide with these aspects so covalent.

But what about what I reject?
The matter of the individual is the gradual unequivocal repression and growth of that individual

It is required for the soul

Nothing is required.

Nothing is required beyond what existence requires.
"good" or "bad"

And just as people exist so too does existence.
We demand so much and request so much.

Existence can only provide what we provide for existence.

This is my semblance to actuality, not minimalism.

I reject what could be, for a future that's beyond me.

Regardless of my choice of origin
Whether I'm a bipedal ape,
or molded out of clay and rib
I sense it fruitless
To let the complexities of the cosmos
cause me strain

It does me no good
To give unrelenting effort
to a greed-like god
named “Understanding”

I am to wonder and wander
I am to live and love
I am to dance and ponder
To be free
of what's above

Burning nostalgic memories
letting the smoke flow out my nose
Cause I resigned myself to just sit and pine
and dream about times where I paid no mind
to past lives

The past five years
I though the world would end
I shacked up with one that decried
my wasted potential in normal jobs
Like where do you get off
if I'm making halfway decent bucks?

The irony of our artsy resurgent humanity degrees
Just go and sell life insurance
Them boomers turned us into gloomers
Generation X, my young parents
the first victims,
at least they had half a fair shake in life
I think the 90s had it right
dripping in yin yang rings and necklaces
so we wouldn't lose our way

Woo wee, where were we?
Hiding from my brother in a clothes rack
with my parents at the mall every weekend
So much confidence in where we were going
The end of history itself
in our careful chaos regulation

The glassy waters are chillier today;
the contagion of reds, golds, and browns
has spread from within, and the ancient ones
experience the slow ecstasy of death.
Winds of a harvest moon slow on the forest murk,
and a tide below the surface will become
a tsunami against an invincible cliff.
Release thyself to the flow
of eternity in infinity
and you will be reborn
by yourself and for yourself,
one with reality in ten dimensions.