In the awakened state, you perceive not only the physical world. You see also the spirit world, the world of potential and shimmering design.~Ken Carey
I could compose an atmospheric yarn,
I suppose, here at the old shed, a barn
with clutter aplenty, attic’s rejects
brimming full of treasure-to-trash prospects.
The kids finger their phones and eye the wreck.
Dumpsters await on speed dial, I suspect.
Possessions own and weigh us down, they’ve learned.
They’re anxious for this pile of junk to burn.
Aweigh! Sentimentality’s for fools.
No longer will it anchor here and rule.
All of the pretty illusory lies
are clearly just reflections in the skies.
Wisdom is shining through the cracks, the light
expanding to consume dark things in flight.
And so crumble edifices of old.
The new’s emerging as bright love unfolds.