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I must be still
if the cream is to collect
in my head
all I have is my response
and even this is tainted
by a million lifetimes
of prejudice
quiet my mind
grow my heart
I slip into selfishness
again to remember
my forgetfulness
illness, heartache
and poverty
the guru’s blessings
may long dreams and soft skin permeate
I dream of monasteries
and lives lived
in simple love
pencil in hand
solidifying thoughts
to share
aspiring every morning
reflecting every evening
I am a rich man seeking wealth
let me sit a silent day instead
to notice only
my insomnia is deep
I forget reality as soon as I see it
I dream of circles
of soil
of discipline
growing wisdom
the murder of lies
and addictions
of secrets in this
daily work
of compost that
rich change
of awakeness
late and early
of dissatisfied lovers alone
I am not here
my ignorance
grows these
structures and
masses
discipline and eagerness
two legs
treading lightly
compose this day
to sip wisdom
from each measure
