Can the tides surprise the moon
before the shores know they're gone
see the world by afternoon

and still return if they're wrong?

will the moon believe the tides

seek their own place to belong
with aspirations pushed aside
unjustifiable by the dawn?


In the wake of forever
captive to and answer few

and far beyond all nascent eyes
a stable aura of being is realized


the tethered ship mourns a wayfaring sea
achieves nihility from obedience


conflict contrived burdens peace of mind
repressing ambition accordingly
Each is left to decide to accept or deny

the essence that flows through the meridian

Can the tides surprise the moon

before the shores know they're gone
is it ever to soon
to become what you've been all along?


To all those gathered here today, I ask
what moves you?

what propels you into incessant motion
and better yet, what brings you to your knees?
How content is a mind

that navigates anxiously around true astonishment
one that remains determined to adhere rigidly to subjective truths?
While hopeless impediments bend to the will of the aware

they glare forever into the flummoxed eyes of the entitled
await fulfillment in vain
that which is sought will not be delivered