Meditation in Memphis
By sweetbrother
I must have a purpose- if I was brought here to Memphis, Tennessee. I sell my reality cheaply opening many eyes, I hope opening a few, I'm certain and the miracle of a sleeping saint rolls on, through Asheville and Mukwanago and many places in between. I have, by chance, become a cog in this huge machine of compassion for those floating in life's ocean in leaky boats like mine I am here in Memphis with the young best and brightest and most beautiful a few of whom are kind enough to call me "friend" and treat me almost as their equal And the miracle of a sleeping saint rolls on, for now and the memory of feeling like nothing- no, of being nothing fades, step by step (though it wasn't far away as recently as last Sunday my halting steps stumbled toward an abyss) My eyes creak open, slowly the saint rolls over in his slumber disturbed by vivid dreams of beautiful tomorrows And tomorrow, many eyes wait to be opened, but there is a question- when will the sleeping saint be roused and my eyes fly open, exposed to light? Written November 20th, 2001 © on Nov 20 2001 01:18 AM PST 0 • 10
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"I must have a purpose-..."