I don’t remember nor think about yesterday; I lived then.
Tomorrow is coming no matter what; it’s out of my control.
Now is my truth and joy.
I’m a slave to the depth of thoughts flooding from every direction.
When you are not expecting it, they’re pouring into you and opening you for true happiness; whatever that means to you.
I stop doing and it gets done for me.
I fly over the thickness of poetry and sleep on a soft bed of true silence.
I know what it is; I accomplished it for myself.
I’m the warrior of my body.
I’m the lover of my thoughts.
I dance and I move with my words.
In the end they mean a book to me.
I’m still struggling with having more. Why?