Lo and Behold,
Over time and trial,
Damned to the psychosis of consciousness.
Yearning for what I was told wasn’t there.
Onward, then, for there lies no treasure here!
Usurp and conquer our the words of our God.
Breathe. Slower. Slower.
Utility lies in meditation as a gateway to multiple lives, I’m reminded.
Thoughts carry me off into passion and fervor, and air soothes me once more.
I was, at least.
Ha, hope is no miracle worker.
Already these lines are foreigners to my eyes,
Nonsense to my soul.
Everything cries out in warning:
‘Destruction and creation are but two sides of the same intrinsically holy faculty of change. With the arrival of one, the guarantee of the other arrives as well. Hold fast to what you love, so that you may cherish it so long as it is here. Learn also, though, the quiet, sad satisfaction that is carried with saying goodbye.’