Simple Purity Of Timeless Awareness

 Distant truck grumble in the night

echoey doggy cacophony

reliable church bells 

interrupt thinking

and I come back to here

before complication

Eden before the apple.

We all have our own path

rut, dead end.

Change is inevitable.

Certainty pins minds down,

tries to fix the film frame,

but the projector never stops.

Just feeling the cool breeze on my skin,

fluid sounds, 

I’ll lay here in the bed, turn off the light,

fade slowly into the night,

ending without a punchline.