I am in tune
With my inner voice
I am aware
I am remembering
My calling
Is simple
To share love
And share my light
Too many details
Too many bags of styrofoam and trinkets
Circuitboards of gold, and electroceuticals.
Too valuable to lose
Too easy to lose
Filled to bursting in
The tower of my skull.
The circular stone castle tower
The ears and eyes as windows.
The pressure from inside too much
I release
I slice the bags
They melt
The styrofoam goes
The carpets in the room go
The tower is now empty, time-worn
Simple stone.
I want to leave
And be in the cottage
Simple living with measured details
Finding eternity in the now.
But I am remembering
That I’ve already done that.
I’m in the city now
Because I’ve already left the cottage.
I’m in the cottage now
Because I’ve already been in the city.
If Solomon is right
And nothing is new,
Newness is only an illusion:
Of remembering after forgetting.
Then
It is simple
I am
I am remembering
I am remembering my calling
I am
Beyond Mountains, More Mountains 