I sit and watch the sense I’m missing something. Something to eat, something to do, something to feel? Everything I need is here already No reason to be unsteady.
It’s an illusion, a dream Seeing the light reflecting as water on the desert sand Does not quench my thirst. The fire on the movie screen Does not warm my hands.
There is nothing to do, nowhere to go. Just be here with the flow. Tell the sense of lack to go!
It’s the missing of that which I already am. Like having my eyeglasses on But I think I have to find them. Now, I use the missing to know, I am already one with the flow!
