It settles in like
A warm fog
Born of nights that
Last too long
And dreams that
End too soon
The wanting is to blame
Motions pass the hours
Till the sun
Breaks through the clouds
Bringing with it
Salvation
In the form of
Truth
To throw away
What is of value
For the sake of
Wanting more
More of that very thing
Is in essence to break
One’s own heart
To spite it and
Render it mute
In the name of
The ego
At the expense
Of what is real
There is no hurry
To get to the more
The more is now
The more is here
It is having the heart
To understand
That this very thing
You want more of
Is golden in its own
Right
As it exists in this moment
What you want
Is what you have
A Collection of Perceptions 