The Medicine of This Moment

I am for this moment of healing

calm – balm for my frenzied soul 

manifests in the the form of

sitting lightly, palms upward religiously

wondering where this gossamer feeling will lead

First) a foreword before we go backward:

to the Christian, of once I was,

it is prayer, a connection to something Greater,

to the Taoist, it is a search

for the possible Possible.

Etheric yet tenuously tangible –

a sacred something I can use.

Now the leap of blind faith takes place

to where Connection had taken place before,

gone but not forgotten and the question is:

Have we forgotten the Way ?

And more importantly:

Have I become too cluttered and clogged ?

Too blessed with everyday chores and whatnot ?

Has my Sunday become the Twelfth of Never ?

A manana mantra of missed Connection ?

An anxious answer this way comes:

One cannot lose what one existentially is,

The pretense is revealed as such:

All but the Way is acting:

A sort of self-imposed exile from ectasy:

To cease this nonsense, I must be committed

away from all routines which cement my wings.

©Frank Coughlin June 2011