Friend, it matters not if not one friend accepts you on your journey,
For all the loving that you desire is within-
You play your sacred tune upon your harp.
Sometimes you may tread softly over autumn leaves,
Stunned and silenced by the beauty of the world.
At other times you may laugh to conceive of a thousand
Worlds within worlds that you may never get to see.
But again, all journeys are within you,
You may take them in your dreams.
At other times you may simply bow in the face
Of white mountains and pray as they seduce you with
Their fresh cold whispers. Then sight a thrush with a wooden chest
And call it near though it knows no sorrow as you do-
It will only tell you of the joy that manifests in every sight;
In every sound; in every silent knowing of the heart.
Sometimes I think you are my second skin
And I am a purple flame within
Then when I peel you away
I feel from my inside the heat of day
And then I find I have a thousand skins
None more real nor truer than the next
And finally I am as a moth
With its wings bent by the light
On into nothingness
No Man's Land
Further into no man's land
This tethered cord breaks
I know I've lost sight of the shore
And yet I courageously continue onwards
The land I've left is ever changed
I couldn't go back anyway
Strange things, these forces of life
Which act upon us
When we least expect
A person cannot stand up
Against the wind
A clinging mind
Cannot remain sane
None of us can defy the gravity of change