We are not in our hands

Top down,
the brain is in control:
we are not in our hands
but move them from a distance;
paying no attention
to the data gathered there.
The world is always tipping into future
while we're clinging to the ladder
which traces its constant stripe
across peripheral vision:
there's always someplace higher we could climb.
How can we turn this picture inside out,
and roll away those stony thoughts
that keep us prison bound?
What incantation could we breathe
to make these boundaries permeable
and set us free to float into true being?


Release control:
empower hands, and listen.
Envision and connect
each source of light and color;
erase the lines that separate
and step into liquidity,
becoming one with sea and stone
and basking in the current as it carries us,
rolling over into Now,
the Now that's where we've always been,
that feeds our hearts and
fills our hands with knowing.


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