There tugs at my heartstrings a mystery, now, its origins shadowed in a milky shroud. I can't taste the outlines or clearly define this elusive puzzle that slips from the mind that slips through my tendrils whenever I try to fix grasp or harness it with my third eye. Therefore I have settled for giving it love, accepting what knowledge seeps down from Above, not being obsessive or making demands but sticking to feeling what stirs in my glands. Perhaps it's the Equinox that just occurred, that stirred up invisible spiritual worlds which cannot be known by mere mortals, you see, from which some gain insights and long-lasting glee. I'll keep meditating and emptying out worries and desires still flitting about, and stick to the Path of the wise ancient ones of whom I'm merely a poor misguided son.
© americanifesto / 場黑麥
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