Sunday, March 29, 2009

What Is There

What Is There?

All my juices
Squeezed out of me…
What is there
When all is not?
My mind tries to flee
To concepts to hang on to.
“Maybe it will be like this”,
Or, “This is why it must be so”.
Stop right here!
Stop right now!
No conjecture.
Nothing to fathom.
Just being in this breath.
The reaching for reasons
Dissolves into a puddle
Of question marks.
Identities, personas
Become the dust pile at my feet.
What is there
When all is not?

Prema Rose

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