Moving thoughts beyond the pond,
that backwater where pebbles
cast by angered minds
in deliberation, breeds chaos.
Out of spite, out of self denial.
That pond where circles wove
their limiting rings of fear.
That pond where life repeated,
and the same lessons spoke,
from the staring faces,
of the skeletons below that surface.
Moving thoughts become clear,
as a flowing river nearing the sea.
The mighty ocean of source.
The place all thoughts originate from.
And identity now fades away.
Individualism surfaces strong,
like the driftwood flowing atop that thought as the dross.
Those memories can now be discarded,
parting with the river soon.
Then the fear can just fade away.
(Written by Matthew James 27th May 1996)