living

The Past

the past has its way with me,
haunting my nights,
it finds the deepest recesses
of my unquiet mind;
planting seeds of doubt
it leaves me to wonder
at what I was,
if I’ll ever be free -

I know:
the past is passed,
I must let it be,
process its hurts,
forgive myself the pains,
but understand it made me,

and there’s no one else
I’d rather be.

what tomorrow holds,
we know not;
adventure, sorrow, joy, fear,
all possible,
all probable,
all to be accepted with equanimity -
the world will keep coming
in constant waves;
it is inevitable,
each moment will pass
replaced in an instant
by another
in a continuous cycle of mystery -

throughout this tumult,
go easy

Where We Are

there are no heights 
to which we rise,
no depths
for us to sink to;
there is the middle plane,
where everything is
what it is:
the past has gone by -
impossible to change -
the future is unknown -
waiting to be lived -
we are here,
we are now,
this present
is perfect