Letting Go

A river runs forth in one direction

flowing and changing at random

reflecting the water’s spools

and the level of deepness

to her moody pools 

Her deep secret waters are calm

construed by tranquility

whereas, her surface waters are confounding

emotions;  raging and unpredictable

or languish through time

moving towards the drop of the horizon 

Shall the soul be as well

calm –

in a solitary place

balancing between life and death

positioned at the pivot of infinity

or stormy –

in passionate frenzy

ready to dispel the grips of fear 

What mask should one need to wear

one that shields the face of the egoic mind

a rational mask

that portrays an outward sanity

a desirous mask

that appears to be kind

a spiritual mask 

that seeks a grace to bind 

What are the river currents saying

when they become raging rapids that threaten -

To steer mightily against the river’s power

by flailing at turbulence’s beset

or allow thoughts to quiet and be gently set –

as rudders to navigate life’s travails

and so to regain balance and equanimity 

Life moves along relentlessly

from the places and time of a distant past

creating shadows of nostalgic tell

seeking tranquil tomorrows

as the eyes peer at the face of mortality

as finite reality

reflected in the mirrors of perception

images of the infallible – will falter

the future is an unknowable existential place 

Using words to form thoughts

may please ambitions

however, these are notions

that need interpretation 

Explain the way out

through the portals

where nothing matters

outside the vastness

of nothingness 

Goodness and evilness are amorphous

based upon a dubious covenant;

a human stake

do no harm

it is so easy to make a mistake

falling into temptation’s wake 

Or to become suspended

by the conforms of madness

it’s only a nightmare until awakened 

Is that the voice of evil that beckons

what then, if it’s just a dream

nothing has changed in the reality

does being awake disprove the dream

of being good

or will wickedness wait

for the shadows of sleep

Shadows in the cave are formless -

forms inside the mind are hidden reflections 

and will egress from the darkness

when the candlelight defies lines of madness

Is there a better twisted rhyme

when does truth become its own fantasy

The image in the mirror owns its own flaws

trouble and happiness have a face

each arrives and stays

at its own discretion

whether or not invited or welcomed 

The universe is the dark source

containing all matter

including the light that touches

and brings life from nothingness

thus, allowing reality into being 

Unless the light is lost in the spectrum

creating the blue of the sky

as reflected in the blue of the oceans

and the blue in sadness

when longing and loss

are the reality

of solitude and distance 

Words of purpose and intention

promise no harmony nor bearing

words can be lost if no one remembers their connection

such as life and death

that tie a survivor’s pain

to a prayer’s reflection 

There is truth in that a sunflower is yellow 

There is a grace in saving a butterfly 

There is a nobility in the eye of the wilderness 

There is certainty in the eye of a wolf 

And there is profoundness in the hand of a newborn child

Does reality exist within reveries of the mind

if one cannot see randomness –

Will it – can it still exist 

The river calls

with currents that are perpetual

the water’s are deep

the streams of words converge

unto the river’s keep 

The reeds at the shore’s edge

stand static against the flow

being mere witnesses

as life’s canoe must meet its destiny

and challenge the laws of nature 

Set down the oars

it is time to give the river its play

trust the direction

follow its way

The words will flow

forever  - as long

as one knows

to let go.