Staring out the open window,
the thought returns-
the urgency grows as it clings and
contains
the etiology of the question
remains
Information is given,
not as a gift to behold
rather a burden or curse
a game of hot potato
and what is deemed worse
and while it's tempting
to go for the low hanging
fruit:
past crimes
improprieties
anecdotal encounters
that reside
in slime
it has not gone there
-yet
you must be curious why?
perhaps you won't wonder
forever because
the real truth
stands up for itself
while you hide under
cloaks and with shields-
a new narrative
wrapped inside of
a subversive spin
through media
mitigating your loss
stealing truth for itself
can only happen for
so long
for the authentic Truth
resides comfortably
inside of itself
waiting for reality's
light to shine brightly
and illuminate all that
is right
so as I brace myself
for your next pointed
assault
on character, calculated
printed and broadcast
with tools only ever
intended to harm
I know we will be safe
Seeing the storm for
what it is-
I see the way the trees
bend and give way
withstanding the weight
of what threatens-
and allows
This intensity
is temporary and
the strength of the trees
stands for itself
as do we, rooted
in all that is sacred
because love and kindness heal
and whilst under this brutal attack
it will remind us what is real
scrutinizing the winds that bloat
shifting not with a lightness
but the option to float
because change must happen
now-
-and will,
regardless of your plan
I am blown back to thoughts
about the importance of our soul-
What dwells within yours?
A deep restorative breath
reminds me
truth lives here
in my lungs, home, heart
In my metta practice too
May you have goodness
to fill your soul and abate
May you have healing
to teach the soul to shed hate
May you have insight
to learn the soul determines fate
Please know, it's never too late