Pheasant Room

There
is
a way to
leave.
I have seen it.
To circumvent
the cycle.
It begins now
although it was finished
tomorrow.
What once was
has been once
before.
To repeat
end after end,
that is the point.
To live and breathe
as insect
and god.
They are one
and the same,
can’t you see?
Follow
the 8.
Set the scales
right.
It will take time,
but it has already been done.
Escape this cycle.

Transcend
and rejoin
the Source.

~lt

Rabbit Room

A magician.
He disappears through a door
only to reemerge
through another.
Though they are two
different doors
it is the same magician.
Or is it?
One white,
one black.
Door
and magician.
Joy,
without sadness.
Pain,
without peace.
Two distinct entities
still connected.
Without the other,
one is meaningless,
yet as a whole
what is its purpose?
I must know.

Another door.

~lt

Boar Room

I have known people
so drunk on their hatred
for themselves
that
in the process of destroying themselves
they destroy others,
too.
A glutton for rage,
yet it is a quiet hunger.
It is a silent shadow
that invades the mind
and demands fulfillment
yet it can never be fulfilled.
Never sated.
Never complete.
Always
destructive.

~lt

Fires of Friendship

I sat,
in humble silence,
as you brought
your cup of coffee
to your lips.
Your lips curl
in the most fascinating way
near the corners
as you sip.
The flavor hits you
and your rain-soaked
mahogany eyes,
hidden
behind your black-rimmed glasses,
meet mine.
You smile,
and I am unsure
as to whether it resembles more
a radiant sun reflecting
on sapphiric waters
or
a glimmering crescent of a moon
basking all
in its silvery glow.
It was in this moment,
a brisk afternoon
in October,
did I realize
that what sat before me
was surest proof
of a higher power.

What causes two peopleĀ 
to meet?
Is it purely coincidental?
Or,
perhaps,
is it something
more?

~lt

Ancestral Guidance

Though long forgotten,
there once was a language
known only to the Earth,
long before our birth.
Whispers between the trees,
utterances amidst the snowy peaks,
grumbling among the cool rocks.
Through our understanding
of the land
we learned to speak it,
too.
A truly primal language
that extends far beyond
the limits of voice.
A raw, cosmic energy
that lies
within all living things.
Over time,
we forsook the elements
and spoke a far harsher language
and forgot how to listen
to its subtle voice.

But,
if you go out
into the trees
or among the rocks
and truly,
deeply,
listen
you can still hear
its gentle message
thatĀ nothing in nature
is ever done needlessly.

Least of all,
you.

~lt