I have been journeying deep with my inner worlds.
The body, the psyche, the emotions, the stories.
The patterns, the shifts, the mirrors, the teachers.
The gifts, the challenges, the heart, the moments
and the vivid holographic memories.
There is so much fullness and so much emptiness.
There is so much to do and so little to do.
There is the impulse to act boldly,
and the impulse to curl in the cave.
Things are crystal clear and they are deeply muddy,
There is ecstasy and there are tears,
The is blissful expansion and brittle shrinking,
There is delicious stillness and there is whirling chaos.
There is a deep well of calmness,
and there is the far off echo of potential hysterics.
The art of leaning back and watching,
passive, unwavering attention.
The dance of turning sideways and listening,
open, easeful presence.
The opera of life continues to play,
with all its colours, smells, flavours and instruments.
Anchoring the now in the eye of the vortex of life,
and unlimited, glorious humanness.
