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Not Finished

I am moving farther and farther away from

my relationship with myself

like a boat in the distance

growing smaller and smaller on the horizon

and perhaps I cried when I saw

the loved ones up close as

they stood on deck--

those I prayed for

beseeched the God in heaven for

and hearing the call they came.

and I called them mine--

my spouse… my child…my spiritual path

and now…

so tiny on the horizon

almost a speck against

the vast blue gray waves

and voluminous white clouds

and me…

alternately burdened and elated by this strange detachment

who am I?

not someone not even something

changing moment to moment

I can play the game and still

enjoy for a while then

it comes back to freedom…no identity

experience…no mind

that is what I want

that is where I am headed

shaking up everything everything in my life

no more the perfect fit life with all the answers

cannot squeeze myself into it now

cannot call on guides and gurus for help

must go with what I know

and that is only me--

this me who is like liquid mercury changing forms, colors

never can hold onto and say

that is it--stop there!

this is who I am

how long before it explodes into existence and blows my cover?

no one to talk to

just this paper these symbols called words

to comfort and clarify me

they can only take me so far

but they are all I have

where is my friend?

got to walk this lonesome valley alone

even though I might know all the friends

soul companions

who travel this same no-road with me--even though


all the universe is smiling me along

with unseen hand

I cannot know them now

I refuse to see them though my heart feels them there

just have to go with what I know now--

not the unseen

not the God of my past

past cannot return

it is a fake

how much have I loved?

how much love has been for

safety - validation - affection - comfort?

this new me that presses to be known

cannot allow any of that kind of love

that is security, not love

it is

fake love

my self trembles with

excitement and fear at the hint

of knowing real love

the props disappear

and the two-dimensional life

falls flat


and not having anything else worth doing

I follow

pressing through the veil

the invisible curtain

I must become

light like

the summer breeze

to pass through and

when I reach the other side

I cannot tell you about it

it has no story no rules

no known

no relationship to anything else


Qi Gong especially for the energy of this poem:


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