HOME
Everything I think comes not from me
but through me
I am simply a passenger
on the bus of transference
I turn over my will
to the movement within
To that which unconsciously compels me
or that which ignites my creative force
Everything I feel persuades me
to move
Toward my many invisible companions
who are often unsolicited
I am tempted and seduced
into beguilement
The garden of obsession
the smoke of desire
Everything I claim
is on loan
The temporary possessions
of illusive havens
My grasp is like water
passing through my grip
Yet, pervasive
and charged with life
Everything I do
is a passage
Not to an end
but to new beginnings
All movement comes
to the beckoning of stillness
The rapture of knowing
is the love-child of ignorance
Everything is a gift
returning to its Source
Just as my heart
will be weighed
For its measure of love
I am a fugitive
upon this earth
Seeking my remembrance
of a shore long forgotten
Home is the reflection
I experience in beauty
Permanently held
within mutability
The Great Void
dancing heaven on earth
As above, so below
as within, so without.
-TruGuy Starhorse
(May 2, 2024)
