My neck hurts, I stretch my spine.
Deeper until I feel the roots beneath me.
They say, "water me."
I raise my head, and salute the sun,
as a grey cloud passes over.
It moves slower until it becomes the sky—
I am grounded, and I am nourished.

I will embrace unpredictability.
I will move with intention, but without attachment.
I will find humor in the absurdity of existence.
I will play with fate instead of resisting it.

‍

Your heart was left dismantled,
by the hands of someone else.
The truth cannot be seen,
until you can help yourself.

Do not dwell on what could have been,
you get the wrong idea.
This life may not mean anything,
so why waste it on something like fear?
‍

Moment to moment,
flickering in, and out,
flux is the only constant.
A pocket of time,
glimpse into space,
visions of sand and sky,
ground me in myself.

Days pass us by, cogs are set in motion.
Countless years of thoughtless devotion.
Told again that we'd all be chosen,
to be let through a door that can never be opened.
A veil of maya, a shroud of illusion,
into our minds, truth has made an intrusion.
Cope with it—we must, we will.
Come back from the edge, to the bottomless hill.

I had a lucid dream. I remember jumping into a pool and feeling weightlessness. The water disappeared around me and I was still floating. I kept asking myself, "Am I dreaming?" I tried to focus to keep the dream together but it broke apart—like reality ripping into darkness, then I woke up.

Time is the space between us.

We have had the honey—without it, the tea is bitter.
You fill your own cup. Drink from it, let it sate you.
For a life of restlessness chases away,
the dreams of content.

What is the pain to have lost?
Lessons to be had.
A withering magnolia tree.
An ever-present lack of presence.