Delicate is the impressions
put upon my Mind-Field.
Like the delicate texture
of rice paper…
the slightest step can impact
the surface.
Every thought, although fleeting,
leaves a pronounced mark
upon the landscapes
of my imaginings.
The stroke of my brush
requires a steady hand
to create a smooth and consistent flow
of articulate expression.
If my attention becomes
a leaf in the wind
then my world becomes
a stream of reactions,
chaos in constant motion.
Self-mastery tests
my ongoing focus and resolve,
to ask for great clarity,
in being the architect
of all that comes before me.
I am constantly being shown
the subtle power of my every thought,
so compelled as they can be
to return to the illusions
of familiarity and pseudo-security.
It is a delicate form of effort,
like holding a baby
in just the right way,
so as not to awaken,
and disturb the delicate
repose of composed
stillness and unattached awareness.
where all that I am is held
lightly but with firm assurance.
-Tru Starhorse Jan. 9th, 2023