All you had to do was ask

Asking the Universe for a response is  an open-ended question.
It can  be a  listless participation
in an exotic process, however so  familiar
When I  stop and listen to the beat.

But  an unsettling feeling emerges that the Universe has answered prayer to
A song my soul has extended in secret between the shadows.
Between the dark and the light,
Between here and there.

It feels unsettling because I asked and it was answered.
My heart asked what my brain could not formulate
 into words for my mouth to proceed engagement from sound
 to speak forth this need that yearned from deep in me.

There is an  overwhelming feeling at last that there is no need to escape
There is no need to perfect, adjust, substitute or replace.

It is sublime that I feel as though I have finally arrived,
but I wonder if half of the excitement
just came from the chase.
All of the unanswered questions within me are now gone and I feel a little empty,
like a vessel that has quenched the thirst of many awaiting a new purpose.

It is a conscious not knowing,
and a subconscious  knowing
I am  asking: who is awake
Reality beseeches me to ponder longingly for a familiar comfort:
 Which one of me wants to be asleep

Then  humor steps in,
always saving the day with wit and folly over an accidental delay.
My  thoughts complete this experience
Where habit brings me to the masterful  list of what should be.

Inspirations of an August day

I often struggle to find calm within a storm
Counting seconds rather than moments.
When the  days escape me
without having accomplished
perfection.

But what is perfection?

Are not leaves perfect
as they sway listlessly
on 'bowed branches...

What encourages their movements?

What cause them to melodically
rock back and forth
so gently between the seconds?

The leaves dance with the sunlight
creating patterns on the grass
of an artistic endeavor
mere mortals aspire to.

Leaves in their pristine perfection
angled and edged on a subtle attachment
to the tree bark
as if to say:
I am here but not here.

If only I could find serenity
in a moments anguish,
Delighting in the turbulence
trusting in the calm that follows.

As the leaf, that parries on a spindle
without a second thought or guess
into attachment
or letting go.

Threshold

It is easy to " quit"
looking outside myself for contentment,
when I remember that moments of fulfillment,
 are an illusory experience  happening within.
The actual, the "reality", is
an interpretation of the self's dialogue,
commingled with doubt and fear
and past references.
What happens in the now is
an abundance of possibilities all
occurring simultaneously.
Simultaneously is such a long word for potential .
Random potential is such a short proposition for what if.
What if I don't open a door?
What if I don't say a word that will infect silence,
Willingly knowing that I am participating in creation?
To be subtle is to be sublime.

Green Inspires

On a splendid Thursday morning, an Angel appears to me with the "word".
And he asks me-
How much  is enough?

The cool breeze in it's splendor
is enough to awaken  a knowing
that you are here for a reason.
If only to delight in the sight of fungi
glistening next to green blades of grass
being nestled among
the dew

My daughter's hand
nestled in mine
as soft and small as only
a child's innocence  can be

What is enough
when a moment of presence can
provide splendor to break
open the heart
so that it can mend once more
growing stronger
with every beat knowing
that I chose to be here and now
if only  to be shown how to
slow down enough to see and hear these words.