In a sea of information we swim,
but have trouble finding a drink to satisfy our thirst.
The future is awful grim They say,
the bubble must soon burst.
In a room, here alone, the world disappears,
learning to be comfortable with quiet,
allowing the subtle sounds to find my ears,
instead of assaulting them with the riot
of noise, noise, noise for the sake of distraction.
Of things, thoughts, reactions, the need for control.
It’s only through letting go that we grasp the truth,
breathe out, breathe in, do it again, be whole.
Remember what you forgot, how rain sounds
falling on plastic jugs, or how each drop makes
a tiny splash as they pelt the porch,
forget the fights, who’s right, or wrong,
remember the song, the one you heard
so long ago, the words of which you cannot lose,
it’s just you’ve temporarily misplaced them
amidst all your grown up cares and concerns.
The meaning of life, is to be alive, nothing less,
nothing more, all the striving to become
is pointless, you already are, accept
what is, and freedom will blossom
like roses, after rain, their beauty made more
beautiful by their thorns, look past
what you’ve been taught, to see yourself
in all things, and all things in yourself.
We cannot save this world, for it does not
need saving. It is, and that is enough.
Can’t you see the majesty of existence,
rough edges, cracks, and imperfection
do not need correction, they need inspection.
See that they are good, that they hold such truth
within them, if only we will stop trying to see
the world in black and white, and enjoy
the rainbow, the amazing spectrum of color
that our eyes delight in seeing, a reflection
of the diversity in our universe, the unseen
treasures waiting just beneath your nose,
like raindrops making music with garbage,
or the crimson petals of a fresh bloomed rose.