Daydreaming

To daydream

is to choose

to manufacture memories

that may or may not

come true.

Those of us blinded by our dreams,

can no longer taste 

the very ingredients 

that make up a memory –

moment 

after moment

after many moments,

falling away from us

like dominoes.

The cacophony of city life.

The haze of foggy mornings.

Limbs that ache from dancing the dance.

Tensions that rise with our every stance.

The lust for longing

and the longing for lust.

Bliss after bliss, 

in every kiss.

Whether it be food entering our lips,

or words of validation soothing our ears,

we all hunger.

But we’re so focused on filling

that hunger,

we lose out on all

the whimsy and wonder,

hiding so patiently, 

in our periphery.

We’re so focused on what we want,

and what we don’t have,

we forget to embrace 

what we do.

Gratitude 

is a doorway.

Step through and you’ll eventually see

how all that you want can come to be.

Complete surrender 

isn’t just the ultimate level to achieve,

it’s also a sensory journey to perceive.

So stop with your ceaseless struggle.

Sip, 

savor, 

satiate 

your soul 

by sinking 

into 

submission.

And snap out of your daydreams

of winning less worthy goals.

There is no higher aim in life

than to let go of all desire,

or rather,

use that desire to create: 

our own portal back home,

our own staircase leading inwards,

our six senses, fully awakened,

our bodies shaking and quaking,

with the desire 

to let go of desire.

There’s really no escaping it.

So why not aim for the stars?

The higher you aim,

the greater the risk and reward,

the larger our capacity 

for pain and pleasure.

And what could be higher

than seeking and sensing

He Who is

Most High,

He Who is

Most Sly?

Each Moment is Longing

Each moment is longing,
quivering impatience,
holding my breath to see,
what You have in store for me.

Each moment is pure desire,
hope bubbling up like dew,
discontent clouding the air,
tears like weapons of despair.

Each moment is full
of my ignorance,
my owned yet disowned arrogance
that I must control the narrative.

In truth, each moment is a gift,
a delicious unwrapping, unravelling
of sign after sign after sign,
all perfectly sensual and divine.

The universe erupted
from Your desire to be known,
our lives a series of cycles
of longing to return.

This being waits with quivering impatience,
avoiding hurdle after hurdle to see,
what exactly it is
You have in store for me.

When will she stop resisting
the floods of love meant to break her,
and surrender to the stillness and storms,
seeing only the light that will take her?