Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Beyond the ego lives spirit, beyond the spirit lives self.

A Prayer
Beyond the self,

beyond this simple form,
my thoughts send whispers
of the searching soul.

Breathe in air,
what has she carried to me?
This me,
searching in everything
outside me,
feels lost in the noise
of all those hearts beating
for the same thing.

Hold.

Nope. The lot of us
is simply not getting it.
This fabric breathes
a falsetto
of the beauty, grace, and form.  
The logic
bruised and misguided.
Yet, there live the
parcels and pieces
of true beauties form, she is
a stutter-less grace,
and I know her.

Exhale the stagnate norms,
neonates of understanding,
I let go of everything
known of this self.

&
with the next subtle breath in
I ask with humility –
the humble part of me

who simply

wants to touch providence –
help me to release everything I know?

I came here to grow.


The Gardener Grows, The Gardener Knows When to transplat.
I am solid ground,

assured,
a continent of rich soil
to plant your roots in.

But do not abuse the opportunity,
for that is when you stick
the self in a potted form,
cramped and stale. 
Loss comes with reversal's norms.    

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