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?