An adept sits on an outcrop of rock

,contemplating what is
and what is not
A shadow forms in the river tree, is it bound or is it free ?
If he turned the sky to just one line of blue,
will that be the thread to hang onto ?

Then again, if he empties his mind, concentrates on breathing sounds..
perhaps all his worries will fall to the ground.
So he sits and becomes nothing,
as still as the rock,
he no longer gives thought to what is, and what’s not
And all his worries he seems to’ve forgot
…….or maybe… maybe not

he’s off again, his minds like a train,
a moment by a platform then boarded with babble insane
The river flows up , water to wood
and the shadow would be him, if only it could.
The blue thread wafts by his own breath
and the tree that cracks stone, displays tenderness.

The puddle n’ reeds n’ flowers abound,
an adept lost in the gap hears every sound
The twist of a reed as it bends in the stream
Calls humbly to the flowers to ask if they dream
Clouds dive like ravens in search of his thread
Have I been born……am I now dead ?

“Not an ounce of difference do all these thoughts make
I think I’ll let it all go leave my existence to fate”
On an outcrop of rock, on the edge of the world,
He lets everything go,
And as it floods from his mind
Somewhere between shadow, water and stone
Alone, discovers on his humble outcrop throne
He is everything and nothing destiny and fate
As here he’s found a timeless time to meditate.



Joined February 2008

  • Artist

Artist's Description

discovering oneself often times takes the time to look inside
to quieten ones own mind… become as still as the rock

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