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True or Imagined?

That memory…

Of when we met by chance

Was it true or imagined?

 

That sentence you began

But never finished…

Was it true or imagined?

 

That moment soaked in feeling

That spilled out of my eyes

Was it true or imagined?

 

The meanings I draw

From your short sentences and your prolonged gaze

Are they true or imagined?

 

What if I trusted

For once

These out-of-sync moments…

 

After all

We don’t always abide

Within strict definitions.

 

We feel

More than our words

Can convey

 

The rest

We let slip past the gaps

Like sand slips through our fingers

 

There are many paths

I haven’t walked…

The roads weren’t paved

 

I couldn’t tell

Where they would go

And would that place be true or imagined?

 

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Breathe Deeply

The well of wisdom

Lies deep below the surface

Of appearances

Which can only show

Our scars and our smiles.

We must come to see

That wounds run deep

And that resilience is a counterforce

That becomes a tree

Which grows upside down

Rooted in experiences

But flowering in deep reflection.

Happiness can never be

An attribute of the superficial

Its source is a fount

That bursts from a force within

A deeply intuitive one

That has learned to assert itself

In the face of misleading appearances.

When you breathe

Breathe deeply.

 

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Look Ahead. March On.

How do I look beyond

What I see at present?

Is that seeing a matter

Of imagination, or faith?

What must I presuppose?

What must I know?

 

The present will cease

To overwhelm you

If you understand that it is

Only an event

In the expanse of a larger destiny

That awaits you.

Don’t cling to it

Don’t linger on it

For too long…

If the moment is over

Leave it behind

Knowing fully well

That you are on your way forward

And that if time hasn’t stopped

You have to continue walking…

You have other promises to keep.

 

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The Only Truth

Remember

 

The only truth

The only thing for certain

Is your own existence

Even through changing seasons

And changing scenarios

Also, intermittently

through darkness and light.

 

Your laughter, your tears

May be prompted

By circumstances

You may whisper sweet nothings

To an apparent other

But while they come and go

You remain… with yourself, always.

 

In an ever-changing life story

What do promises mean?

How truthful

Can truth claim to be

When all is a lie?

Where does fact reside

In the architecture of our imagination?

 

It’s clear to me

That change is the law

But my heart’s desires

Seek permanence and ever-replenishing joy

I believe if only I could

Hold on dearly, with more heart

Nothing would betray me.

 

Yet broken promises and tears

Are not a curse

And a crowd and some company

May not be your blessing

With objectivity

Subjectivity regains its bliss

And all opposites collude

 

Lies, I’ve come to see

Is the creativity of truth

A disgruntled friend

Expands my notion of friendship

And an incommunicative lover

Is now enjoying my silence

He no longer feels the need for words.

 

Now I know

When all that appeared to be true

Becomes a lie

When all that had promised

To remain the same, changes

I must remember

That I am the truth

 

That needs to be restored.

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Irony

Life is a mystery…

And that is the cliché

I use to describe

My confounding experience of it.

 

That’s the irony

Of life

That I depend on the dead

To help me understand the living…

 

What if I gave up this strife…?

Would my not-knowing

Be any less

Than it is now?

 

I’m beginning to see

How acceptance

Is moral and complete

And how it immediately harmonizes…

 

Perhaps there’s wisdom and beauty

In dwelling in the silence

And not soliciting the overused

To speak about it.

 

When things can be said

How much more eloquent

Would it be

To not say them.

 

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Unavailable

What if you are unavailable to yourself?

The mind occupied

With thoughts that are not about you

The heart beating silently

Your talents offered

Without a care for reward

You stand detached from action

The act of waiting for your turn to come-

For the time when you will be available

To attend to yourself

-has an incredible power…

It sustains you without

All the things you thought were necessary…

Worry…Self-concern…Validation…

…the time to exist just for yourself…

Without them as your cause to be

You stand in effect

Freed from all the limitations

That define your littleness.

 

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Till We Meet Again…

I wish you’d leave
I’d like to be alone

In a time and space
Freed of the need
To be guarded

Right now
I don’t want to care
For what you will think or feel
I just want to
Touch base with myself

But then in my solitude
I find myself searching
For that permanence
That’s supposed to be me
…A me without you.

What an ache there is
To find no such thing
Just a hope that one day
When the curtains come down
On the drama of our lives

Read more

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What Remains When All Ends

Each experience

Is like a short film

 

A fixed-duration sound and light show.

 

My life is an illusory line

Composed of short-lived segments

 

Everything with a beginning is fated for an end.

 

All that I know

At some point fades into the darkness of what I don’t

 

Every day ends in a dark night.

 

In and through short-lived experiences

The experience of experiencing has persisted

 

With all that changed, this alone has remained.

 

 

 

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A Drawing in Still Waters

What is a poem

If not a reflection

Of the mystery of my being

 

How can I claim authorship

Or even meaningful intent

When my own existence is

Like a drawing in still waters.

Posted on by solangesuri2015 · 4 Comments

NOW

I suspect that

There’s no other time

Apart from NOW.

 

Your memories and

Your dreams

Live only in the NOW.

 

You can’t be better than

Or more prepared than

You already are…NOW.

 

How you will be tomorrow

Is how you are

Today…in this moment…NOW.

 

The most important people

Exist in your life

Right here, right NOW.

 

To wait in hope

Is to hold your breath

Inhale and exhale…NOW.

 

To grow is not a future plan

It is to fill up

The space of NOW.