Wherever you go,
Go with all your heart.
Whenever you start,
Don’t stop, just flow.

Whenever you choose,
Choose being kind.
Whenever you mind,
Don’t judge, wear their shoes.

Whenever you do good,
Good things will come.
Whatever you think you become.
Don’t be ignorant; be understood

Whenever you disdain,
Disdain becomes your tomb.
Whenever you want to bloom,
Don’t be thunder; be rain

Whenever you get wronged,
Wrongness should be forgotten.
Whenever you feel rotten,
Don’t remember; it’s prolonged.

Whenever you judge,
Judge yourself not others.
Whenever you’re with brothers,
Don’t hold contempt nor a grudge.

Whenever you are true,
Truth will set you free.
Whenever you can be,
Don’t be someone else, be you.

The world is a symphony,
whose instruments need to be tuned.
If we ever want to mend its wound,
we need to learn some sympathy.

And there he sat
transfixed
with his head
cocked to the side
pressed against
his tense shoulder

His tight chin
cringed upward
shrieking for relief
while his gray mane
draped in the drool
draining from
his dead lips
curled into
the wrinkles of
his withered face

His obtruding veins
Splintered his fragile skin
Into fractured slivers
Like splitting sheets of ice
On a warming winter river
Each flake shriveled
As the blood receded
Fading each pastel color
Into shades of grey

His bushy eyebrows
protruded over
those murky, marbled eyes
with pupils like
creamy, black clouds
lingering faintly amidst
a midnight blue sky

But as he sat
Dead paralyzed
In an eternal lullaby
He still looked alive

Have you ever stopped abruptly,
When two parts of your mind were deliberating,
And thought to yourself bluntly:
“Who is the me that is listening to this contemplating?”

You’ll realize that this me of you is the true you, you see.
It does not have a voice but is the silent observer.
Like watching tv, it’s your spectator me,
Your inner true self, your life preserver.

This spectator me cannot think or talk;
It just… is. It is the now.  It is the here.
It’s the timeless clock that does not tick or tock.
It’s you. The real you. The almighty seer.

You are not the pen; you are the ink.
You are not your thoughts; you do not think.
The mind might be perpetual violence,
But you are the tranquil silence.

You are the watcher, you are not the mind.
You are the stillness; you await behind.
The possessing entity has you mistaken,
But become aware and you’ll awaken.

I am Jekyll; I am Hyde
The Yin and Yang constantly collide
I follow the light; I live in the dark
My silhouette is never stark

I want everything; I need nothing
Honest as a mirror but constantly bluffing
I am the whole and the hole
I am the wretched beautiful human soul