How dear is my present to me!
Even as it stands imperfect
I know it. It’s familiar.
I’m drawn to it because it so effortlessly
My present is the culmination
Of the hours, days and years I’ve devoted to
If I lose it, I will lose all the vanities
That I had with great complexity interwoven with
I will stand a ridiculous lie unto myself!
My heart will weep not so much
For the loss of people, places, property
But for standing disrobed and diminished
Before all that I dressed up
The present is rich in the meanings of thoughts
Whose enslavement I have come
Who am I without them?
WHERE am I without them? They’re all
My tormentors have been my only love…
And even though I know
That life is a habitually
A sleeping savior in a dream state
I can see now that I’m nothing more than