On being


I keep reading about just being,

like I was being something else.

Is it hard for others, this being,

the being of themselves?

Maybe I don’t know my being

maybe I don’t know at all.

The nature of what the hell is being.

Can anyone know or tell?

I don’t want to appear unknowing, I know what being means,

but is it I that does the looking out of this face being me?

or is the me the me inside you, that sees the me in me?

There is nothing


There is nothing to do,

there is nothing to say,

Its all flowing its own way.

We try to stop it.

We try and then fail.

There is nothing to do,

but breathe in and exhale.

You think that your doing will save you from this

Your doing is nothing,

Its being that’s best.

So be what you want,

and do what you can.

Say to hell with what’s not,

and be liberated my friend.