Out of the faith that holds me here,
Thoughts are pouring into a clog,
I put “What Is” in front of them
To snake it out and clear the mind.

I am a line between two points,
Sometime a straight, sometime a curve,
And when I reach the ending point,
The pen will stop, refill, and start drawing again,
A new line.

I welcome whatever fears may show up
To this Circus of the Past,
I am the memory kept alive,
By the intrinsic motion of time.

In episodes of low destiny,
I have not turned my hope away,
I have not knelt for quick relief,
Nor betrayed my only soul.

I’m the buffalo running wild,
Chased by bullets, and worries, and fears,
Beneath the torment of blood,
My head is clear and triumphant.

I am the entity holding,
The pain at day, the relieve at night,
I am the foot and the head,
I am the bottom and the top,
I am a copy of yesterday,
Unskilled at birth, squeezed out of life at the end,
But still the holder of my remains.

I am the wall when I see the wall.
Day and night, I am awake,
I am the dreamer of this place,
A stable dream, but still a dream.

I am the influence of my life,
I am the keeper of my conditional mind,
Sometime I need an invitation for a reboot,
To inject “What Is” in front of everything.

What Is