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)