On my birthday I went out with some friends, and a homeless guy stopped me and asked if I would read his poetry. He obviously was looking for some money, instead I offered to buy him some food for his work. After the night had passed and morning was present…between the rings in my head and the discomfort of my core…I glanced at a white sheet of paper that was on my desk. This is what that paper said:
only in one way.
In the blatant words.
Ones not heard by willing ears.
With acceptance, of joy
because life is as it is,
no matter what it gives.
That’s all there is.
The clarity is so real.
Conditioned by the lie of what we feel, we will always fall.
It is, and was, and always will be,
The only thing that exists.