The treasure in the hole
is there to hold
as long as it is not
defined as treasure,
a little off
the answer
when being given,
the path to home
must stay on course
despite the missed
and incorrect directions
like a memory of something new…
Temperature rising
to check the mind
awakening
the spirit with its
gentle membrane wave
proceeds…
The eyes are always crooked
adapting
to the outside
and self-created mirrors
so we can see ourselves,
while the glass which
holds my image is
a fraction of my form...
The water carries
toxins out
as water brought them in,
exchange
and in between
a breath
choosing
to receive
and when to give...
Unrecognizable endings
as the balance always settles
at a different place
in the motion,
the distant bells
remembering
what I scarcely recognize,
between the hum and the silence,
as I leap to cast my figure
moving through the space
as inside source,
a quickening
runs on forever
where my mind
so mercifully
cannot go...
Empty mind,
abundant heart –
I am born into
a towel
and at the whispered ending
released from all
but freedom’s feeling
going on, going forever on.
