Not Without Meaning

I took

a perfectly fine

empty moment

and filled it

with a search for meaning.

I assigned it

An agenda-

A question for contemplation

Believing that

In its silence

Lay answers

And a wealth of wisdom

“That’s my relationship

with emptiness…,” I realized

“I simply won’t accept

its nothingness…

At least not without

any meaning…”

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A Measured Human Being

To be lost and confused

Is the naivety of freedom

Which requires artfulness

To acquire meaning.

Freedom, although a given

Must be sought

And understood

Through a sincere quest

Of your purpose

Of your reason-to-be.

You must come to know

Your talents; develop skill

And intuitively learn

The art of self-restraint

For in order to be a free spirit

You must first learn to be

A measured human being.

The Art of Giving Form to Your Content

The truth that gives your words

Their power and beauty

Abides in the heart

And therefore

If you must speak

Speak your heart

And never your mind.

 

The heart is immersed in silence

While the mind rides

On the waves of sound

Speak your silence

Therein lies the mystery

The truth of which

All men yearn to see manifest.

 

It’s not the art of speech

That makes a man eloquent

It’s his mastery

Over the art of silence…

Chisel your words such

That you leave around it

A meaningful silence.

To Be is To Care

Why must it be so exhausting

To care…to act on your vows of love?

Why is it so fraught with frustration?

Almost always going unappreciated

Undervalued…

What if I decided to stop caring?

What if I refused to act on my concern?

Would that cut down

An excess of involvement, of investment?

Why do we get involved?

Why are we invested in another?

What hopes are we pinning to our caring?

Care is not a ‘project for improving’

Care is not a charitable act

That you are called upon

By your conscience to do

Care is not a duty towards another

It’s an obligation to yourself.

Care is the essence of ‘human being’

Creatures of consciousness that we are

Care allows us to connect

With our source

Even as we expand into infinite dimensions

Care is the path we pave

To complete the pilgrimage

Back to ourselves.

 

What Makes Me Angry

When justice is what I want

Injustice makes me angry.

 

When truth is what I want

Lies make me angry.

 

When perfection is what I want

Imperfection makes me angry.

 

When agreement is what I want

Disagreement makes me angry.

 

When respect is what I want

Disrespect makes me angry.

 

When strength is what I want

Weakness makes me angry.

 

When ‘one way’ is what I want

‘Many possibilities’ make me angry.

 

When power is what I want

Disobedience makes me angry.

 

When morality is what I want

Immorality makes me angry.

 

A burning desire for one thing

Burns down everything that comes in its way.

 

It’s not imperfection, injustice or disrespect

That’s the cause of my anger.

 

It’s the desire of that thing

That stands outside of me…

 

Unreachable. Unattainable. Evasive.

That makes me angry.

Disgust

Disgust, I feel you

But find you difficult to understand

How strange

That you are the face

Hiding under the mask of pleasure

Why, I wonder

Is pleasure your grace;

And your disgrace?

What do you want me to see

Now that you and I

Stand face to face?

…That things are

Not what they seem

That their charm is fleeting

And that a lie

Needs ingenuity

To seem like the truth.

Things are what they are.

Their correct proportion

Is a sense cultivated

Through dispassion and distance

Knowing fully well

That pleasure is a gift

Of the imagination

And disgust-

An ironical reminder of that.