All these meanders and sleights of handAre a dead-end.They push me deeper into the dark.Their roads all finally narrowAnd swear to smother meIf I follow

All these meanders and sleights of handAre a dead-end.They push me deeper into the dark.Their roads all finally narrowAnd swear to smother meIf I follow
Once again, you thunder.The mental squall blowing me away from the present, again. Emotional hostage-taking attempt. Mind-jacking.You won’t get me. The rumble of your words
Some difficulties are invisible, inexpressible….They can only be understood once they have left us.A sentence, a word which comes out, without warning,The body, which alleviates
Meditation is a canyon-diving practice …