Stilted Weaver

The mind commands the body and is instantly obeyed. The mind commands itself and meets resistance. ~St. Augustine~

Read the full post and more about this poem here.

To keep a simple thought straight… My, would that be great. Yet my mind weaves like a basket. Pull a strand and seal my fate.

But I like it. Think like me, sometimes I wish they would. Peer through the darkness — and see some good. Been so afraid to take off this hood. It’s hard to keep a secret seeing more than you should.

So we flow with the waves as they come. Born defiant — mind wont behave — heart on the run. Tired mind tricks and more games are played under the Sun. As my existence from this reality begins to fade back into the One.

Way up there in the pool I feel consumed. Not squeezed to death — don’t have to hold my breath or feel entombed. Mazes with endless ways, phases and rooms. Four corners behind my back — enhance my blooms.

~Ruby L.S.~