Flick

Blue mood, adrift
A cruise through shadow spells
Of heavy hues, mistaking
So many sole-less shoes
For my own lack of something

Pain is reaching out for friends
But I paint emptiness here
For fear I won’t be understood
A private figure behind a hood
Eyes closed and meditating
Hidden

Yet how can I raise grievance
With those for whom I grieve?
Though even in these depths I see
the wood for all the trees
the pattern in the weave
an ego that deceives
whilst trembling

I need not lament,
for them or for this self,
All is simply as it is
And from this I can draw health.
So flow the teachings
Blow by sacred blow outreaching
Asking if we’re seeking something worthy
of this life

Unsteady ground shaking my shit
up and down shedding pound
after pound of peace
of me.
Until I stop and see
one single moment as it is
Squeaking gates galore
I am here and choosing
to live less or to live more

Least is only this
Most is all of this
Therein lies the twist
The flick is in my wrist

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