i’m waiting with patience
for a different death.
transformation will happen
by itself (when it has to )
and i’ll step into a new birth of realization.
yes, i’m waiting to be awakened.
love, hate, mirth, melancholy,
sympathy, nullity, fear, ecstasy
(all my entrails, my flesh,
bones and my subtlest marrow)
let me live them, and relive them always
with acceptance, friendliness and witnessing eyes
so that i’ll be able to ease myself, be centered
and reach exactly where my real being is.
taking my time
i'm waiting for my facades to fade,
my naked innocence to revive
and my inmost voidness to flow out gushing
so that i'll be unchained
to live and leave as myself sans self
with access to my truest, cosmic being.
if i deserve, peace in me shall bloom. i’m just waiting.