A Note to Self

Hold on,

what are you holding on to

and why?

Those ideas, plans, views

opinions of what all under the sky

should be?

 

For waters carry no words.

No stories,

not a single verse.

And every made-up belief

adds a white-picket fence

around your distraction fields.

 

Hold on,

What are you holding on to?

Sink deep, into

spaces that make you quiet.

Dig old forsaken pleasures out,

those fragile bits of absolute silence.

 

You don’t have to answer it.

But you see – what’ll be, will be

and no reason,

no force,

no strength of a grip

ever made a difference.

dream-2-final

 

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