Always on our way somewhere
we exist
in such a rush
so afraid
no one notices us
we don’t notice ourself
how much we expect
from everyone else
Our hearts are hollow
we’d prefer to fill them
with delightful trash
shallow pleasures
rather than
to slowly treasure
and allow all
the joyful pain in
We crush our heads
full of nervousness
addictive doubts
speaking thinkings
drinking thoughts
to fill the lovely void inside
to hide and resist
appreciating our
blesséd weightlessness
would we embody
the empty cup
the conduit
yielding instead
to the spirit
should it choose
to move through us
but we get stuck
in our beliefs
that discomfort
is disease
so we run
avoiding
by playing dumb
but how free
we can become
being
willing
instead of numb
