Next time

At every opportunity

Where reality offers me an easeful invitation

Into the level of upper knowlege I aspire to,

Or to the creative wave I wish to ride,

I feel resistence

Feeling the threat of suffocation 

Of perfect understanding

Or a creative life realized 

Even insulated by all I desire

I feel sad to leave behind the unsustainability & transience

Of unfulfilled potential

I feel closest to God

When my views and gifts are a secret between Them and I 

Not yet ready to invite the world into my sacred circle

I promise to extract that nameless, placeless thing I crave from being formless

And then surrender myself fully through the door of realization

Next time…