I’ve been in one place for a long time now. In some ways.
But the terrain keeps changing. I am continually reassessing, reorienting-
Gearing up – or down. I didn’t expect it to feel like this at this point.
It’s not that I expected smooth sailing, but at least a clear direction.
I figured I would have interpreted the signs,
– have plot a course
and taken each obstacle as it appeared
for what it was.
But nothing is ever
what it was.
It is becoming and un-becoming
and shimmering – always –
a mirage.
Nothing will ever be. Let it change. No. Watch
it change.
sparkling to read. beingness and time, how do they hold hands? breathing is always discovery, a new spoon in the soup. maybe direction is only relevant within our self point of view? maybe I’m completely wrong. again.
A poem for a poem. I love it
Ahh Ren. Wise comforting words as always, ‘But nothing is ever as it was.’
Correction “But nothing is ever
what it was.”