penance for truth

The ‘rightful’ thing to do
I m aware
of choices on spur,
for duress’ sake

A retreat from ‘truth’
to seek shelter under
The truth that I see

The understanding is fleeting
transient feelings pushing it to heights
so big that it challenges reality

I relent and flow onto
further with the truth of the moment

the ‘rightful’ far left behind
for the gust of the whim is strong
the truth of the moment
dwarfs the rule, the exception
the rightful, and its ties

the moment, the life
owned by now,

years of the past
surmised by a moment
into now
of a prick precipice

– penance to severance
pain a sign of decay, gives way to the new a fresh beginning. At times, though, the scars do not go away

listening to Nee Nenaindal while I write this. I do not understand the words but it sets a reflective mood.

alive to life

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion.

-Thoreau