Poem 15

Comments 2 Standard

We exist in the middle of the story.

When we’re busy understanding what happened,

We miss the nuances of where we are.

 

Blind like deep water fish, we move into the future

Only possessing maps we’ve drawn of territories we’ve never seen,

Based on our imaginings of things we don’t understand.
Stop pretending and embrace fumbling.

Feel the sensations of the moment

They’ll guide you to the next place.

2 thoughts on “Poem 15

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