Phenomenon

While the waking world sleeps
I the Shadow , prowl the streets.

Bending and curving
gliding and flying.

I knock on the sleep stricken mortal's window.
Scratch. Scare. Pound. Plunder. Listless and bleed.

Blessed are the ones who have mastered the art of sound sleep.
Rest are just waiting their time
and pretending to sleep.

Steps

Down the wood’s lonesome trail
A long long time ago
In the middle of the night
I followed you.

The night was young
The moon was strong
And the stars were
Looking down at us.

I called your name
I asked you to stop
I wanted to match
My pace with yours


I wanted to savour the midnightsun
Drink the gleaming sunshine
Feast on the soothing night breeze
Here with you

I thought you slowed down
But only in my heart
You were scuttling right ahead
Urgently. Almost teasingly.

I knew it then
It was meant for me
To keep up with you

I saw you turn
A backward slight glance.
I heard you chuckle
From a distance

I called you again
Implored you to slow down
But you did not.

With my hurried steps and anxiety
I kept chasing you into the forest
Yes, you had vanished
And yes I was lost.

It is..what it is.

You can’t stay in your corner of the forest waiting for others to come to you.You have to go to them sometimes.- Winne the Pooh

She has a tendency to panic. Makes it hard to trust her.
He is chronically greedy. Grew up dirt poor.
Money is everything.
She is a channel of pure wisdom, a naturally gifted seer.
He is a genius, able to connect vast intellectual concepts.
She is fragile, new, and green to the concept of cause and effect.
He is angry, wounded, and perpetually antagonistic.

People are where they are – despite our desire for them to be further along, more evolved, more fun, closer to our level, less intimidating, more relatable, easier to access, or simply more like us.
If you take the desire for someone to be different out of the equation – you can meet them where they are. You can meet them in the real moment. You can meet them in their despair or their magnificence. And when you truly meet them, with no wishing for something different to wedge you apart, you’ll know what to do. You will have the compassion to be calming, the humility to be reverent, or the wisdom to walk away.

The question becomes, how would you treat “wounded,” or “rage,” or “brilliance”? Not how would you help (or coerce, or plead with) someone be more healed, or less angry, or more down to earth.

They are where they are. Consider the facts, spare yourself the desire for change. Remove the friction of wanting to improve them. And engage. It’s the only way change happens.

The One.

A room to dance.
A meadow to lay down in wonder gazing the night sky.
A solitary forest trail.
The night breeze on a solitary forest trail.
The quietness of the night. Music of the dark. Melody of night creatures, of chirping crickets.
Somewhere in the forest the night bird sings.
One can hear the flaps of the wing.
Smell the earth, feel the dew. Bask into the moonlight.
One with the night bird, with trees, with grass, with forest, with breeze, with moon, with universe.
I am the universe.