Time To Choose - Time To Change

Time to choose? Time to change? When I feel Love It feels like I am falling into a deep blue lake Of a baby’s eyes. When I hate, Darkness consumes me like smoke, Smothering light and extinguishing all hope. Knots in my gut and a sack on my shoulders Head bowed by heavy boulders. Irritated by the sun And almost everyone, I feel tense and numb, Paralysed and dumb. My mouth, a frozen sneer And the only sound I hear Is my rattling breath, choked by fear And the groan of a rusty wall, Closing, menacing, dark and tall In the city of my mind. And I am agitated, worn-out, vigilant yet blind And time sluggishly passes on and on Like the tick tick tick of an unavoidable bomb. When I love I gaze in wonder At a dewdrop on a leaf. And raise my face To the cleansing rain And open my arms in appreciation To the caressing breeze. My hands are warm But my spine shivers with delight As our eyes slowly meet. And we fall into a natural rhythm As we walk side by side in the green forest. I am a friend to myself, Basking in the luxury of BEING with You. I am again surprised that I’m touched By little things… Like: the laughter of strangers Passing by. A child giggling, a baby crying, A dog barking And even the silly song on the radio In the open door And the plane passing overhead Is all music to my ears. Mmmm… this “Love” stuff, sounds so wonderful, Carefree, simple and uncomplicated, But turning away, turning in, turning off, tuning in, turning up Time and time again, Whatever the weather, Is a spiritual practice. And: is not easy (oh how I know) And: requires grit and resilience. Especially In times of inconvenient and uncomfortable change And uncertainty. And: When I’m a slave to the voices in my head It’s like I’m being led (or misled) Backwards and forwards again and again, A ghostly, battle-scarred yet noisy train, Fixed on the railway tracks of my obsolete trauma, A well known, but now boring and repetitive drama. Never can rest and always too much to do, Habitually pushing but never finding a way through, Until it get’s to a point that I just don’t know what to do. And I stop. Or break. And fall helplessly into the darkness. But what I sincerely believed was a bottomless pit Is actually a rich soil full of seeds. And all they were waiting for Was my childlike curiosity (undivided), attention And the light of my awareness. And as I become again sensitive And listen to the whispering spring That was always there. I sense my Heart calling And guiding me Back home To a place And parts of me That I recognise And intrinsically know. © Sangeet Portals October 2021