I find it unspeakable to speak the truth.
I find all shallow thoughts of men are my own.
I find wholeness lights every way I can see.
Now, moving in truth, I see no other way.
I find myself feeling for sensation,
when my heart is weary and tender.
I find the cries of old and young the same.
Each of us, responsible. This world.
I find no thoughts to reach a living.
To be held onto what I know is treacherous.
It slips out and into the depths unknown.
Where there is no guide, only home.
Quiet silence of waves for the sensitive one.
They act in the kind and ruthless ways.
All living coming to pass.
All that suffered brought to shore.
Each of us, many guides.
And we are the only ones, of all.
May we be true to ourselves.
To light a home that will be unperturbed
through all storms, strong and small.
Like light and dark, see the change.
Hear the calling from your frames
and be with all that is.
You’re safe.
-Anthony Ross
(Flexanimous Art)
flexanimousart.blogspot.ca
