mindfulness

The Truth in Fruit

If the fruit pleases the eye,
it is already a feast.

Press your teeth,
let the flesh confess
its honeyed psalm,
let juice run like a promise
kept.

The truth does not hide,
it ripens in the sun,
round and fragrant,
ready to be held.

Tend the soul like an orchard.
See past the peel,
look deeper than skin,
further than the horizon’s thin line.

Love with both hands,
and without gloves.
Reach,
and know your own hands
are made of mercy,
your spine a stem
that sways but does not break.
Touch,
and trust the weight
of your own grace,
the kindness that bends your branches,
the sorrow that roots you
deeper into earth.

Believe in the pulp,
the seed,
the inevitable bloom.
Of Mirrors and Embers

Vanity is a gilded cage,
each bar polished to a blinding sheen,
your reflection distorted in its golden grasp,
a prisoner of your own making.

It tells you, You are more,
while the world shrinks into a mirror,
and every face becomes an adversary,
every word a threat or flattery.

You preen, you pose, you hunger,
until the hunger gnaws you hollow,
for what is vanity but a feast of air,
a banquet where you starve alone?

And anger-oh, anger is the fire
that licks your bones clean of reason,
that turns your hands into fists,
your tongue into a blade.

It does not burn away the wrong;
it burns you, leaves you charred
and trembling in the aftermath,
ash in your mouth, regret in your chest.

Shatter the mirror.
Let the cracks show you
how light passes through
even the broken things.

Kneel by the river,
wash your face in its cold truth,
see yourself as water does,
without flattery, without fury.

When anger comes,
do not feed it your breath.
Hold it like a live coal
until it cools in your palm.

Breathe.
The world is wider
than your reflection,
deeper than your rage.

Step into the current.
Let go.
Be lighter.
The Release

In morn’s pleasant aroma,
with gentle breathing,
I released the burden,
a shadow companion,
not of the world,
but whirled in my head,
a being of my own making.

No irons bound me,
clutching fast,
but threads of thought,
so tightly spun,
today I let them loosen
from their hold,
to drift beyond
the mind’s own edges.

The skies,
a wide and unsealed canvas,
no longer stained
by “what may be.”

The trees
whirled wildly in the gust,
and I, at last,
was given sweet release.

For anxiety,
that foul specter,
was no more than breath,
pale and dim,
a play I’d written,
a story I’d spun.

Today,
I tear those yellowed pages in two.

And where dread had sat,
there is a garden,
its tale told
not in the icy grip
of “what might be,”
but in the radiance of
“here, with me.”
Bridges of the Scattered Self

When estrangement gains its hold,
a quiet severing begins,
not only from the voices without,
but from the murmur within.

We imagine the gulf yawns
only between ourselves and another,
a space grown cold and wide.

But look again.
The mind wanders a forgotten path,
a memory foggy with time,
or a future yet unspun.

Thoughts drift like leaves
blown far,
on a wind we cannot name.

And the body
experiences the phantom pull
of somewhere else
while remaining rooted
in this precise moment.

Even the eyes,
which are windows
to an invisible world,
gaze blankly into the present
while concentrating
on a far-off shore.

Our fragmented
and scattered selves,
each floating aimlessly
in its own ocean.

Kindness
should therefore be
a gentle hand
that unites all differences.
And respect
the bridge we build,
thought by careful thought.
Allow connection to be
the gathering, a homecoming
of all our scattered parts,
welcomed back
into the warmth of now.

Filed under: 🜂 Other – reflecting on connection, relationships, and the spaces between souls.
The Rhythm of Surprise and Steadiness

Some wander for years,
tracing circles on familiar ground,
then suddenly break free—
vaulting from stasis into motion.
They say the truest life
unfolds in the surprise of possibilities,
where unexpected moments light the way,
and growth bursts into bloom.

For others, the steady path
is neither linear nor mapped.
It’s a pilgrimage of felt understanding,
where each step sinks deep
into the soil of realization.
Progress isn’t in speed or stride,
but in knowing where your foot lands
and where your thoughts rest.
This is living in full awareness.

I believe there must be
a butterfly’s kiss—
it colors life’s canvas,
while steady footing
roots us in empathy,
kindness, and love,
attuning us to others’ needs.

The energy that drives us
whispers of infinite paths,
but without our steps,
even infinity falters.

Mind your words—
they are seeds of care.
Nurture simplicity,
and we truly care for one another.

Why complicate what’s clear and true?
Why complicate the simple?

In the vibration between
the unknown and deliberate attention,
life finds its rhythm,
and the melody
we create together.

Filed under: 🜃 Infinite – exploring the unseen forces behind creation, truth, and existence.
Awareness Unseen

The mind doesn’t stop,
a ceaseless sea of thought.
Awareness is a current,
steady and deep,
flowing beneath the waves.

In light,
its depths are revealed,
crystalline and clear,
while in darkness,
it hides secrets
it keeps from sight,
a vast ocean unexplored.

An attentive eye,
a lighthouse on the shore,
though often unaware
of its own inner presence,
still senses its gentle touch,
like the caress of sea foam.

In shadows or sunshine,
it’s a constant companion,
an undercurrent strong,
and a soulful heart
beating with the rhythm
of the eternal tide.

Filed under: 🜃 Infinite – exploring the unseen forces behind creation, truth, and existence.
The Gift

A seed of love and grace,
Nestled in the heart’s soil,
Dwells within the thought’s spirit,
Yearning to unfurl.

Action’s birth,
A tender sprout,
Like a stone
Cast into a pond,
Ripples expanding,
Touching distant shores.

The gift returns,
Love and grace multiplied,
In the wake of mindful deeds

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
Mindful Equilibrium

Seek balance,
Or lose the present’s grace.
In mindful choice,
Find your true place.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
The Captain’s Harbor

When your thoughts
Feel like a wild storm,
Worries flood in,
Tossing your mind like a boat.
Remember, there’s calm,
A quiet harbor
For your busy mind.

To break the chains
Of unhealthy thoughts,
Ask these questions,
Like a wise, kind friend:
“Do these thoughts help me now?
Should they be here right now?”
If not,
Let them float by,
Like clouds in the sky,
They can just fly.
They don’t need to stay.

With gentle awareness,
You’re the captain,
Steering your mind to calm seas.
Feel the steady ground under you,
Hear quiet waves lap,
See the clear, bright horizon.

Each peaceful moment.
Is a practice,
A patient art,
And a treasure.

Leave your worries behind,
Sail to the present’s soft light,
Here in the Now,
Let the warm sun of awareness
Melt away the fog of anxiety.
This calm is your home port.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.