In my waking breath, I start and start again this day’s long pace.
I have a choice to walk it right or throw the day to waste?
Can stay captive to the mind-noise that yesterday I fought,
or carry forth the truth set in unencumbered thought.
I can busy [me,] my self, in the ego-sea of [me,]
or journey to a world of those around who’ve been set free.
Can nod to no importance, ignore beauty through my eyes,
or linger in the peacefulness, seeing splendor beyond the skies.
If my heart is beyond shallow I won’t hear the crying sound,
I’m destined to the sadness of a horrid day gone down,
and patterns that have made Me [me,]
repeating, reseeding, a lost strategy.
This thing we’re all built on, truth and love and willing,
it’s time to set a new stride and keep the dark from killing.
It’s time to offer Gratitude and Loving arms embrace,
it’s time to see our lives are just a wasteland ‘cept for Grace.
Letters From 500 