I am walking on currents of light.
How could I want for anything
when the universe lifts my every footstep
and fills my every inhale
and carries my thoughts into an infinity
of wordless wonder?
They told me this was “naive.”
They told me “dreamers don't survive this world.”
But I say:
It was when I stopped dreaming
I became heavy as a boulder.
When I believed them
my thoughts crippled my very limbs.
It was when my heart was revived
like a fish rocked in water
after flailing on the shore
That I knew without an ounce of doubt:
Dreaming is my home
like water for gills.
It is the Great Force of the Mystery
to whom every cell of me belongs
And my job is to love
without condition
the Pattern
that pierces
every
other
pattern
The one breathing this breath
the one writing this poem
and the one reading it.
This very suspended moment
as awake
as the moon in the night
and as real
as the heart pumping
however fast
however worried
however unfinished
with its karmic lessons
Do you feel it?
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
Light.