again & again

It seems to me that all these books
contain again & again
a single truth
a lesson never
ever complete—

each moment
each breath
an iteration
never-ending
until we breath our last
& then
unto the great unknown
we go

where we may realize it
in full.

We seek it
in each new thing:
a book
a taste
a lover
until one day we see
we held it all along.

Even the wisest among us
—so long as they draw breath—
are not yet done
not yet free
fated to repeat the lesson
over and over.

The only difference
between the enlightened &
you & I
is that the masters do not read doom
in each new lesson.

instead they welcome
with open arms the certainty
of loss & the uncertainty
of what is yet to come.

Where we see a curse they see
a blessing
& even in their weeping
they smile
with all the radiance of youth.

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when I talk to the trees

“this is so difficult,” I say.

No, it’s not

they say,

this is simple.

Stop

over-complicating

over-thinking–

this is simple

this is simple.

I go quiet again.

Still

yet

restless–

I feel

naked

before them–

every inch

of my soul

laid bare.

I hear:

You are afraid.

I say,

“Yes, I am.”

Don’t be,

they say,

You have nothing to fear.

This is simple

this is simple.