Poem : The State of Longing

To be in The State of Longing

Longing to be filled

Longing to be emptied 

Longing to be held

Longing secretly to escape this realm of existence where I am missing something-

Where I’m begging to be soothed

For it is then 

When my curiosity composes cruel notions of love

To know -within time- that I am also the cell of conceptions

Creating the world

First thing when I wake up in the morning

A living hell of thoughts invention 

A patterned flow of no direction-

You don’t believe that we are simply Habit

But Death can feel like a heavy load to transform into Living Truth

I ask with affirming uncertainty,

“There must be a bottom to this unwell” 

My fingers slip and I depart from the effort of holding on for too long to the

edge of the highest stone brick

I surrender to the psychic phenomenon of Gravity

And simultaneously God

I am remembering a dream my Mother shared with me

She was falling into a deep black hole

As she fell she saw the hands of people she knew reaching out for her

Within reach but beyond grasp 

She was quickly falling through the roles that once gave her meaning

She was dying, letting go, becoming unrelated, becoming the nothingness

Then she woke up

I am also that which deeply affects me

I am the soothing sound of the streams

I am the sickness in the air I breathe 

Where the electric waves of the city tumble my tummy into anxious knots

I am too the peaceful unwinding into the silence of an undisturbed forest

The process is painful but it is expansive

I would rather drown at sea than slip in the shower