Tuesday, August 11

What is it?

Where are we searching?
what are we seeking?
There's a hole in my whole
Thus my wholeness is leaking

Thou often when you dig
Far down in the ground
Most times you will find
What your seeking can't be found.

Some say it's in your head
Some say it's in your heart
Some find it in the end
Some have it from the start

Some open every jar
to see if they can smell it
Some talk till they are breathless
To see if they can tell it.

Some sit beneath a tree
And wait for it to come
Some seek it on a different plane
by making themselves numb.

Some open every cactus
And drink its spilling juice
Some check every egg
Laid by the golden goose.

Some will ask the shadowless
To answer all their maybes.
Some say that they have found it
in the innocence of babies.

Some have given up their search
dismounted from their lookout lurch
Are simply content with breathing and being
and seeing only what they are already seeing.