The Balance

And so,
whose reality is real?
What would we do
tomorrow
if we are released
from yesterday?
Would yesterday's sorrows
creep upon us
like shadows growing
in the evening sun?
Would our shadows become
twilight?
The darkness of our lives
it already is
darkness.

Darkness so murky
not as black as nothing.
Nothing is so final as
the end.
Nothing as dark as
dying.
Unfinished work,
dreams not realized;
stopping without having
started.
Failing, without having tried.
Will the darkness be so dark?
Seeking without finding,
not knowing what we seek.
And yet,
tomorrow is our hope.

Our questions
become
the answers
when we know
what we are asking.
Understanding,
like straining for the rope
we cannot reach
stretching,
sweating,
pulse grinding,
reaching every muscle
up, up UP.
And finally we grasp the end
and it lifts us up
swooping suddenly
the rush of wind all around
and we fly.

Complete in the now
the tao
of today.
Moving forward,
circumspect and aware,
gliding through the
crystal waters watching
the ripples multiply
as we move.
In the crisp morning dew
at dawn we see,
but where to go?
Never mind,
just moving along the path;
which path to take?
Our way, your way
my way.

Sanity
like a toddler,
must be watched always;
gently guided,
reminded
of the way.
The right way.
Laughter.
Yes, laugh.
All is well when
the toddler smiles.
Tears,
salt in the tears
must flow
gently now,
everything will be alright.
Yes,
just like a child;
precious and dear
to hold.
The child holds us in the
now,
keeps us sane.

Peace,
at last the comfort
of completion.
Fulfillment;
emptiness replaced
with the accomplishment
of survival.
Peace now,
and rest,
tired eyes,
tired soul;
time for rest.

A dream;
a whisper of
tomorrow.

A song
gently touching
our soul.

A quiet ride
in a canoe
down a softly
flowing river;
rocking to
and fro.

August 2002