There’s a fog this morning
Warm air bumping into cold
The greater atmospherics
Out of my control
I simply woke into this day
Becoming gently soaked
The next metre or so
In ayurvedic medicine there is a correlation
Between the conditions within
And the conditions without
I believe this
What clears the internal fog?
It is not thinking
That is certain
Attention to thought is like turning on a smoke machine
To fill the corners of the mind
There is no food or magic elixir
Instead it is almost a requirement to step outside of self
Outside of this spinning never stop thought built universe
Discard it like a suit
Crumpled on the ground
My wraith like attention gone wandering
To commune with the stars
The small parrots nesting in a hollowed out fence post in the gully
They make more sense then the evening news
The hawk that circles
The ants building quietly
And with focus
My dog who stretches in the sun
One paw messaging at my arm
“Scratch my belly”
That is not dependent at all
On this thinking world
That never stops
A life we can choose to step into
From mind induced
What is real?
What is not?
If we don’t pay attention to it
Will it stop?
Is this heresy
The mark of a coward
Retreating from Man U fractured reality
Does it make it less so?
I’ve dropped it
That squirming bag of snakes
You can investigate them further
Poke them about
Will run in your veins
But in the end
With what is in the bag
Or walk past it
*”today” can sometimes be two days or more in the past when I write, so don’t get too hung up on “this morning” it may have been a few days ago. My song line (this blog) is written as I dream it into reality but the time lines of posting lag as I schedule ahead.
Otherwise some days there would be four poems and other days nothing. Consistency is key for readers.
Header image taken Wednesday morning when indeed there was a thick fog blanketing the morning I woke into.
16 thoughts on “That bag of snakes”
Filled with insight that need our attention. I believe that there can be no “[r]etreating from Man U fractured reality” since we all live on the same piece of rock, called Earth, trapped in endless motion around a star.
Thanks Rosaliene life is like a series of endless Russian Dolls – the deeper in we go the more there is to open. Still, sometimes it is nice to stop opening and walk away from the toys of imagination.
Beautiful imagery and emotions of internal fog ❤️ Beautiful picture you took too!!! 🙌
Fog makes everything look ethereal even common things like the woodpile become something a Unicorn might step out from behind …or a long brown snake (got to watch where I’m tromping when I’m picture chasing) 😉
Like a curtain of mystery ❤️
🐍 Did you really?!? Haha!!
No didn’t see a snake this morning – it’s oddly warm at the moment though so they would be about again. High stepping knees to chest if I see one believe me 😂
Haha!!! I’d be doing the same thing!!!! 😂
As usual, I love it. Perspective when it’s hard to maintain it. You have to step outside of self, you’re right about that. Or at least gain a new vantage point.
“Actually, the problem is that I can’t lose my mind,” I said. “It’s inescapable.”
― John Green, Turtles All the Way Down
Yet it seems the only way…
I believe the Egyptians were correct to discard the brain when they performed embalming 😊
Wonderful! and I’m not bothered about the chronology of your poetry, its the moment captured, the thought expressed, that’s the crucial thing and you’ve done it again here!
Due to time zones I’m always a day out anyway. Thanks – this one just fell out.
Oh this is so well written, I love it. Love the lines about bag of snakes to walk past, and the mark of a coward – great stuff! I think sorting our minds is brave ❤️
I think so too. 😊
Reblogged this on Momentary Lapse Of Sanity.