child self

I've been contemplating my personal myth of my inner child. Can I help not be in awe of what I've been given to work with? Labyrinthine grey matter mansions i wander through, where i am my most sacred child self, enjoying gardens of fungi, which are thoughts. Some thoughts are poison, some are euphoric. To find my way back here, I am harnessed to a golden leash, strung through the cosmos and Atlanta, then knotted into my physical heart in this moment.

looking/holidaze

looking and finding on the

path am i

my gratitude may expand

may it heal

my friends and enemies. i concede that

i know nothing, nor can knowledge ever

be satisfied. I concede that i think i'm in love with the human spirit &

the ability to be a conduit of the consciousness of light, and when

resonating with emptiness, i ask the light to be part of this process.

i do not accuse god of abandonment,

for i am rich, both in laughter and exasperation.

the zen mind may come with me, as

i look within for a new understanding...

the path is a fire, shredding my feet

and icy shards.

opening me.

today discussing the holidays,

with linda,

enjoying the first caffeine and nicotine high

of the morning:

the pains of

consumerism,

seasonal depression,

the funeral procession of beautiful turkeys and pigs

from their graves to our tables.

all reminders of "our apparent wealth or lack."

(i apologize for my ego being a grinch,)

so linda reminded me that the holidays

are meant as a time to get together close

with others, to stay warm in the cold,

to fill light in the dark, so we won't be so sad.

summer will come again,

and one year from now, we'll be killing all of our turkeys again,

preparing to celebrate being alive through cold and dark.

Vincente Lopez