I am the discomfort
and the desire to get rid of it

I am the welcoming
turning to face myself
again and again

I am the letting go
and the tenacity of lingering

future plans ride on my coattails

satisfied and unsatisfied
I hunger for what
constantly feeds me

twisting myself inside out
knotted or lithe
I find myself unchanged
in my delight


what isn't?

we could say the story, maybe

a label slapped on an illusion,
it is, and it isn't

what isn't?  can we find anything
that isn't?

all isn't
and yet, there only IS

so what isn't doesn't exist,
because there is....

           some      no -    thing


what is it?

what isn't it?

all our knowing of what is
and what isn't
collapses in being
unprovable truth

No comments: